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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 2:39:12 GMT
Having followed him over to the bar, her golden eyes are set in a cold glare towards the fox. Her lips are pressed into a tight frown just from being among her kind. One could argue that it's ridiculous to hate the entire species for a silly reason, but it couldn't be helped. It was a well known fact anyway that gryphons and foxes--particularly kitsunes--did not get along under any circumstances... unless there was something seriously wrong with the gryphon in the head.
Lifting herself from her angsty, bitter thoughts, she lowers her eyes to the ground to avoid having to look at the fox girl. "Vodka. Please and thank-you."
She knew damn well she looked like a bitch. But, given the circumstances, she couldn't be assed to care or linger on it. The smells and sounds engulfing her combined was beginning to leave a bitter taste in her mouth. May as well numb it, no?
On top of this, she could feel her ears ringing. With a sigh, she realized if it was this bad in her "human" form... she couldn't imagine what it'd be like in her true form. Torture, she presumed.
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 2:48:23 GMT
Sylver notices her discomfort with the bargirl, and avoids striking up a conversation with Quemado. She knows him personally, and has no qualms with slipping him two free drinks, despite it being against the risk of being fired. She even risks kissing him on the cheek as she slides the drink across the bar, and then sways off to serve another customer, this time a paying one.
"One vodka, all yours. How come you looked like Que's bitten you personally? Problem with vixens?"
He picks up the glass of water, and sniffs it, making sure the spicy young girl hadn't added anything to his drink. He's a suspicious one, but that's how he's survived for so long. He can already see several men (or males, rather) looking in Laika's direction with lustful eyes, and rolls his own singular one, absently gesturing for her to lean against the bar beside him. The closer she is, the easier it is for him to keep an eye on her.
"You see anybody? He's huge, he should be easy to spot. Then again, he's a tricky bugger. My ears are aching, and I can't smell a damn thing, so I'll have to rely on your eyes. My one's not so good, these days."
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 3:02:00 GMT
Taking the drink cautiously, she too sniffs it before sipping, but unlike Sylver it is due to more extreme mistrusts. A poison caution. Finding the drink to be of proper order, Laika carefully takes a sip. "I'm a gryphon. It's well known, or at least it should be, that our kind does not mingle with theirs. Nor do we appreciate snakes of any sort," her voice is a low growl now, her distaste towards these two creatures very apparent and very strong.
She turns her eyes to look at him and then at the males he had been glancing at. With a disgusted curl of her lip, she does, indeed, scoot closer to Sylver. Pigs. They weren't getting any piece of her tonight, that's for sure. Suddenly, her mind finally registers his question. With a slight frown, she sighs. "Hold on."
Setting her drink on the bar top, she manages to spread large white wings out from their discreet place, flattened against her back, much to a few people around her's dismay. Flapping them gently, she lifts off the ground a few feet in order to get a better look around her, cupping her hands 'round her eyes. "Hm... no. I don't see anything, yet."
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 3:10:10 GMT
Sylver smirks at the explaination, understanding now. He flicks a glance over his shoulder, to where Quemado's sulking on a bar stool, her pale furry arms folded over her large chest. Somebody's figured out why Laika was huffy with them too, apparently. Not that he cares, he has only passing affection for the vixen, the kind that a man has for someone easily available when they need de-stressing.
"Whoah, watch the wings smartarse."
The curse falls easily from his lips as the nearest wing almost clips his head, causing him to duck slightly. Even though most of the patrons look disgusted by the feathered wings, one or two nearby seem to have had their interest kindled. His hand slides to the knife at his belt as one man casually saunters closer to the bar, close enough to listen to their conversation.
"Shit. I don't know where he's gone, then. Knowing him, he's probably in the toilets with somebody. Are you going to come back down now? It makes me nervous when people show off their wings in this place."
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 3:40:12 GMT
Sulkily, she allows herself to drop back onto the ground. However, gives a cheeky grin to her companion almost immediately after. "Sorry... but, you know, you saying that makes me want to shift right into true form, dance upon the table tops, let out a roar and see how long it takes for a bar fight to ensue. You know, like the big ones in the crappy old movies?"
Glancing over at the few who's interests were actually heightened, she gives them a poisonous smile, as if to dare them to come forward... but making sure they know the risks in such a challenge. Turning her eyes back up to the other, she shrugs absently. "Look, I was born and raised on Mount Kurama in a house fit for royalty. Up there, I'm more or less a princess. Certainly a ruler of sorts, merely not a main one. Nor one who's particularly liked. But, I am respected, even if most of that is because my father and uncle own and avidly rule more than half of the area and make sure the residents know that they don't fuck around... bottom line is; I'm not used to people's reactions towards me outside my home, so I'll bite: Why does having wings create a negative reaction in the majority?"
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 13, 2010 3:57:37 GMT
Sylver shrugs half-heartedly, and bares his teeth at the one man who dared to come closer, putting on a show of being more attached to Laika than he actually is. He listens to her words, noting that the other man also does to, despite the warning.
"Just don't. Wings make people edgy, 'cause the only things with wings are usually the things you see last in this life. Plus, the dragons don't like the idea of anybody else gettin' around in the sky, y'know what I mean?"
He leans further back against the bar, this time blatently displaying the knife at his hip as he takes a sip of his drink, shadowed eyes malicious against the majority of the others here, the patched one looking very ominous. He's noticed the other man is edging closer, and is preparing to interfere if anything happens, since he's the one who dragged the girl back in here.
"Down here they don't give a shit if you're a princess or a donkey in a tiara, you're the same damn level as the rest of us. Ra-Divide don't have any royalty, don't have any leaders, either. It's just you and your weapons, and if you die, you die alone."
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Post by Venn on Apr 13, 2010 13:40:49 GMT
Laika, having also noticed the other still hanging around the two of them, merely smirked as she listened to the explanation as to why they disliked the showing off of her wings... unfortunately, being herself and all... she couldn't possibly care any less. "What a weak reason. What? Are they afraid of a little competition...?" Her voice is thoughtful, surprisingly, upon asking the question. "And anyway, I'm not expecting any sort of special treatment. The point of me mentioning it at all was just to emphasize the fact I don't know what is proper "etiquette" here and what is unacceptable."
Turning harsh eyes to look directly into the mysterious man's who had dared to slink closer, she launches a cruel grin. "And what exactly are you looking for, dare I ask?" Her voice isn't the least bit friendly upon saying this, in fact a bitter hostility lurks beneath her words and her eyes gleam with warning. You may as well stamp "DANGER" in big red letters on her forehead.
Leaning casually against the bar, she leans her weight on her left leg, as a result displaying her curves even further. Of course, all of this is done completely on purpose just to see how far one will go and how long it takes before either she, or Sylver, has to cut a bitch.
And then suddenly... she smells something, one way or another, amidst the mass of heaving, sweating, dancing bodies. "Hey, Sylver? I think he's somewhere close."
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Post by Kukuiru on Apr 14, 2010 0:21:42 GMT
Sylver offers her another shrug, only happy to hear that she doesn't expect special treatment. Since she won't get it, here. He finishes the water provided by the barmaid and shoves the glass back over the bar, hoping it will be enough to prevent him becoming dehydrated by the searing heat of the club. After the cool breezes and sweet scents of outside, it's unbearably hot and smelly in this place. It always is.
"They're all afraid. Everybody in Ra-Divide is afraid. That's why they're here. Everything goes, and everything dies, here. There's no etiquette, no rules, no laws. No trust, either."
The man's reaction to her snarl amuses him slightly, since he blinks in fear and scurries away. Another guy is also edging closer, but isn't turned away by the noise. Perhaps he's just trying to reach the bar, but when he touches Sylver's shoulder to gently push him aside, there's a flash of movement and a cry; the guy sinks to the floor, clutching his leg where blood is pooling around it, dripping to the floor. Someone else grabs him, drags him away and fearfully shoots a look in Sylver's direction.
It's obvious that it happens frequently, since nobody else bats an eyelid. The young barmaid, that pretty fox-girl Quemado, slinks over and leans her elbows on the bar behind the young man, grinning as she does so.
"What did I tell you about cuttin' up th' payin' customers, honey?"
He ignores her in favour of quirking an eyebrow at Laika. He doesn't know how far to trust her senses, but they're obviously superior to his. He can't smell anything apart from sweat in the club, and the guy he's looking for doesn't have much of a scent anyway. He smells of fog, which is basically the same damn scent as sweat.
"He's close? Whereabouts?"
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