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Jun 7, 2015 21:58:08 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2015 21:58:08 GMT -5
A spirit roaming the earth for centuries was not exactly unheard of, the minotaur that roamed King Minos's labyrinth or the yeti are prefect examples. However, being stuck in the human world wore on a spirits, draining their power and eroding their mind. In Nasir's case, he had been stranded in the world for nearly two centuries and its effects have worn heavily on his power, but he managed to find ways to keep his sanity. Meditation, hibernation, adopting new hobbies, but the route he found most effective tended to involve alcohol.
More specifically, drunk humans.
"Whiskey, neat," Nasir said to the bartender as he took a seat at the bar. "Make it a double."
@anya
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Jun 7, 2015 22:31:00 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2015 22:31:00 GMT -5
Corners suited her best. Anya made sure to always choose the one farthest from everything, the perfect vantage point for observation. Tonight though, she wasn't looking to play detective, always wary of the next face that pressed its way into the smokey bar. Tonight, her bruised palms and cut fingers were wrapped around the neck of a cold bottle of ale that she’d lift to her lips in sips, but its primary function was to soothe those aching hands. She’d won. These were the hands of a winner, she liked to tell herself.
Her eyes did trace the edge of the bar though, a male visage coming into her view. He seemed vaguely familiar, although she was positive she’d never seen him in her life.
Perhaps she would play detective anyway.
She picked up her bottle and moved to the bar, slipping onto the seat next to the tall, dark man.
“Make that two.” She said, catching the tail end of his request.
@nasir
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Jun 7, 2015 23:07:21 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2015 23:07:21 GMT -5
The bartender glanced at the woman with mild intrigue as she took a seat next man. He shot Nasir a quick but subtle look that could best be summarized as, "Lucky bastard," before preparing their drinks and leaving to tend to other customers. Nasir picked up his glass and stared at the golden liquor for just a second before taking a sip. His steel gray eyes moving to Anya as he brought the glass down. He paid no attention to her obvious features, her youth and beauty, and focused instead on her hands.
"Bad break up, I take it," he said casually.
Normally he tried to avoid dealing with human women. They tended to be more trouble than they were worth, especially the younger variety. But this one seemed interesting. Well, interesting enough to entertain the notion of sharing a drink with at least.
@anya
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Jun 7, 2015 23:31:16 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2015 23:31:16 GMT -5
"Not really. They do make a good conversation piece, though." She said, knuckles white as her grip tightened around the bottle, then released it altogether. She slid it away, making room for the returning bartender who sat each of their drinks in front of them, perfectly poured, perfectly identical. Anya lifted her drink from the bar, holding it up and peering through it as if only to see the world coated in his sepia hue. If there was one thing she'd learned about the man already, it was that he had impeccable taste in liquor.
"My hands are my occupation, I suppose." She glanced at his hands as well, setting the whiskey back down in front of her. "I take it you're not a fighter, though."
@nasir
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Jun 8, 2015 12:37:25 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2015 12:37:25 GMT -5
Not a fighter? Nasir let out an amused huff and took another sip of his drink. Perhaps not in the traditional sense in which she was thinking, but the spirit was far from inexperienced in the field of combat. Though he supposed it was an easy enough assumption for a person to make about him. The form he had chosen drew inspirations from an ancient Egyptian lector that he favored, and as such lacked any of the nuances that a true human body would possess. An awkward birthmark, calloused hands from years of manual labor, a scar earned from drunkenly falling off of a deck, or any other sort of distinguishing blemishes were lacking on his body. Perhaps he would take some time to rectify that.
"No. I can't say that I am. Most people tend to know better," he stated and gave a light flex of his arm. "Sure like to talk a lot of shit though."
He then shifted in his seat so that he could get a better view of his new acquaintance. Outside of her hands there were not a lot of obvious allusions to her occupation. Which meant that she probably didn't take a lot of hits. At the very least she knew how to avoid getting punched in the face. She likely relied more on speed than outright power as well.
"Name's Nasir. I dabble in pretty much anything as long as it pays," he said. "You?"
@anya
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Jun 8, 2015 21:20:32 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2015 21:20:32 GMT -5
Nasir. The sound of his name fell with a dead thud on her ears, accompanied by the sliver of a cold chill like the boney fingers of a corpse up her spine. Given birth names were taboo in her household. For instance, she didn't even know her own father's name. But it was a doomed magician who dared utter the name of his birth, especially to a stranger in a bar. As for Anya, she was no magician, but no one knew her given name with the exception of those who helped to name her.
"I'm just...an entertainer of sorts, I suppose." She said, finally picking up the whiskey she's slightly been avoiding and finally sipping it. The amber liquid slithered hot down her throat and landed in her stomach. She felt as though she could feel the heat seeping through her, and she lifted her gaze to him to finally catch a glimpse of his eyes. The eyes were the window to the soul, if he even had one.
"Nice to meet you, Nasir."
@nasir
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Jun 11, 2015 14:54:47 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2015 14:54:47 GMT -5
When their gaze met the spirit did not waver. There was very little information that he cared to hide, but, in the reverse, there was little he felt others were privy to knowing. They would have to uncover his mysteries the old fashioned way, the same as him. Though it would seem his new drinking companion played by similar rules as well. A trait that made her that much more interesting.
She was being coy with her name, keeping the focus on occupation. A clever misdirection that a number of magicians he dealt with utilized when dealing with the subject of name. For good reason, of course. Names held power, encapsulating the totality of a subject in a mere handful of syllables. Nasir had nothing to fear because his true name was all but lost to the world and simply knowing his alias was not enough. Nevertheless, this girl had set off the first red flag Nasir set up when dealing with humans. The average commoner would have given a portion of a name, a nickname, or something of the sorts. It tended to be the polite thing to do. Magicians were more guarded, but she did not strike him as one of their ilk. There were no spirits lingering around her, which meant that she was defenseless. Well, magically speaking that is. Magicians also tended to avoid these slum areas, especially after having taken such a prominent role in society since the Rift opened. Another oddity that piqued his interest.
"Blood sport, huh? Not the prettiest of occupations but I can see how a place like this could need it," he said, not willing to press the woman about her name, though it was clear she took note of his own. "What's your record?"
@anya |
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Jun 12, 2015 9:11:41 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2015 9:11:41 GMT -5
She thought it amusing that he believed she would give up so much so easily. What was he playing at? Did he have his own agenda? What was more amusing was that she’d come to sit next to him at the bar to figure out more about him, and she felt like the one being grilled. He wasn’t your common “commoner”, and the fleeting thought passed that maybe he was from another pocket of the resistance somewhere, someone unfamiliar to her. Perhaps he had been in the army before now. Either way, she still found herself holding tightly to her information.
“Did you come here to ask questions or to drink whiskey?” She asked, standing from her spot at the bar and dropping some money next to her glass. The bartender turned to retrieve it, but by the time he’d picked it up, she’d turned and was on her way out. There was nothing this guy could tell her, it seemed.
She pressed out into the night and took a deep breath, rubbing the chill out of her arms. She didn’t see any signs of him being a demon or a magician, but there was something about that Nasir that didn’t sit well with her. It was best she let it be.
@nasir
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Jun 17, 2015 13:04:01 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2015 13:04:01 GMT -5
Nasir simply rose an eyebrow when the woman suddenly stood up and dropped the money on the table. He found her comment a little amusing, but from any bystander's point of view he was just making small talk. "I came here to find a little entertainment," he answered with a mild shrug. As she made her way out of the bar he remained seated, staring at the glasses of whiskey still on the counter. Now he was faced with a fairly annoying choice. Sit at this dull bar, hoping that some drunk bastard would pick a fight with him, or go after the girl that already piqued his interest.
He sucked his teeth and tossed back what remained of his whiskey. The burning sensation serving as an excellent metaphor for his rekindled sense of curiosity, a facet of his personality that had been eroded by the prolonged tenure in the human realm. With a light sigh he rose to his feet and dropped an appropriate amount of money on the counter. The bartender, having returned to collect his payment, gave him an approving nod to which Nasir just rolled his eyes.
Stepping out of the bar and into the cool Parisian night brought on a slight feeling of refreshment. It was getting late, even for this district, so the people lingering about were growing scarce. With a quick scan of the area he was able to catch a glimpse of the woman just as she turned a corner. "Annoying," he muttered to himself before heading after her.
@anya |
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