Aeval An Dohman

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Dark clouds hung over head. It was apparent that a great storm was coming. Luckily the rain had yet to begin. Light lingered through the cloud cover. Lapis sighed as she hoped the remaining luminosity would stay long enough for her to get inside an inn. How the darkness frightened her… It wasn’t so much that darkness itself scared her, but what could be lingering in it. There had been a recent outbreak in monster attacks too… Monsters were much more numerous when darkness fell. Luckily this darkness would not be caused by nightfall, but by a storm. Even monsters ran for shelter during storms… Only the most desperate of them would be caught in such weather… But even if monsters wouldn’t be out, there were still other things…

People rushed around as though time pressed against them and they had to fight back. Everyone knew that the storm was coming and wanted to get inside before the rain began. Lapis loved the rain. She strolled as slowly as usual... And that’s pretty slow. Lapis saw all the shops glowing with light, but the shop keepers began closing windows and doors to prevent any damage from the storm. Of course, most were still open for business. Costumers rushed into restaurants, grabbing a bite to eat while waiting away the storm… It was nice to see so many businesses striving. After all, in Lapis’s travels, she had seen far too many closed down. This city was striving when others weren’t as lucky.

All at once, water began to poor from the sky! What a truly wonderful sight it was. Unfortunately with the thunder and lightning, Lapis figured it best to rush to an inn and dilly dally no longer.

Lucius walked through the streets of the town, his wind magic always leaving the air around him pure and free of any of the stray early droplets of rain that might be falling. While he also enjoyed seeing the rain, his jacket was leather, and the damn things couldn't handle water if improperly treated. He let himself wander through the streets, feeling nature's grip on this place as a weak pulse, struggling to make people realize it still existed with this storm. Even more thrilling was the way people even went out of their way to avoid what nature was doing, rushing inside their little buildings to stay away from the life-giving rain. Soon they'll even find out a way to even control the weather, Lucius thought as he wandered through town. As he felt his magic starting to make him strain the tiniest of bits, he figured it would be best to find an inn before he started losing his grip on the magic and got wet. To make the plot proceed, he ended up at the same one Lapis ended up at. As he walked into the inn, he took his jacket off and gave it a quick shake, to look as if he'd actually been getting wet out there.

He could feel it. Degall's instincts kicked in for a reason even he didn't know, and made him pull the wooden bock from under his arm. Along the seam of the box, an eerie white light glowed. By the time he had pulled the padlock off, De could only witness the glow fade to a low-lying fuzz of light around the obsidian tipped band. "I guess that's five accounted for then hmm?" He muttered to himself in distaste. He wasn't so much upset with the new development as he was with talking aloud in his situation, where he had no reason to. It seemed ridiculous. Taking a look around, he spotted the glow of a town against the overcast sky, not more than a mile off. "Might as well get a drink I s'pose." was the last thing he could think before stepping out from the cover of the large tree above him. As the first crash of thunder and the first blast of lightning lit the sky, he booked it towards the local inn, his heart racing. "Thunder. Thunder and lightning. Dammit." Slowing to a steady walk, he entered the building, suddenly feeling more... relaxed? No not really relaxed. Perhaps more like he was in good company, like people who were like him were around. As he eyed the denizens of the inn's lobby, a girl with blue hair, her back towards him, a boy probably around his age drying off his jacket and a few others who just wanted to get out of the storm, his gut wrenched in a way it never had. He felt like he was among a family of sorts and emotion tugged at him even though he refused to let it show. He had no idea how close his thoughts were to the truth. The blue lapis and newly lit obsidian rings hummed at a near inaudible level as he too a seat in the back of the room.

It always rains on my shift doesn't it. Lowsy.

Jordan gave a grumble in a few incoherent words before continuing. He didn't have anything against the rain and all, but he didn't like how dark it got when it rained - reminded him of nighttime, and he felt sluggish at nighttime. He resisted the urge to spit into the mug he was cleaning, before setting it underneath the bar with the rest of them. It had taken a bit longer than he had expected - 2 weeks to be precise - to gain complete trust of the bar from the owner, Mr. Georgeson, so that he could work alone. That was the way he like working: alone, nobody telling him how to run the bar or keep track of the travelers in the Inn. Jordan could honestly say, however, that this Inn had to be one of the nicer Inns he had worked in. Unlike his last few, this one had a broom for the broken glass mugs, a working door and running water. If that didn't make things convenient, he wasn't sure what did.

However, it was downtime in the bar section for now. Most of the folks were in their houses, waiting to wait out the storm. A few unluckies would be out and about, and a few even more unlucky travelers were sitting in the Inn, constantly bored with the food. Jordan had to shrug away a few confused eyes at this time when they were curious as to what they were ingesting - How the hell should he know, he couldn't cook worth a damn. Other than the annoyed travelers, the below standard cooking ability of the cook and the fact it was raining, everything was pretty normal. Well, unless you could consider a guy with long, red and black hair and tied into a ponytail normal. It had taken Jordan quite a long time to convince these people that he was neither a demon nor was he constantly on fire, but they were still somewhat cautious of his oddities. Good thing they hadn't seen him when he still rioted.

And, just like every Inn he had ever worked in, there were certain people that showed up that made things a little more interesting.

When he heard the door open, in popped three kids - no older than he was - at different time to prove that they were not together. The first was a girl with hair that would confuse the locals more than his - a funky blue colour. He tried not to notice, as was how a barkeep should always react to new folk, but he couldn't help but give her a quizzical look before moving on to the next kid. He was a little more standard, with his leather jacket - Damn, we got ourselves a rich kid. - and black hair. Nothing too interesting about that kid. The third made him smile, but just a bit - the guy had some obsession with metals, and looked like he belonged out in the country side than in an Inn. The country was a lovely place to be, but he could understand why ranch hands would come in now - the rain storms weren't very forgiving in the country side.

Jordan gave a smirk before hopping over the bar - Yes, he knew that was very unprofessional, but it was his thing. He gave them a smile which was somewhat fake, but quite real as well, and spoke. "Welcome to Merryfellow Inn, travelers. Will you be checking in, or needing a drink?" He noticed that before he had hopped the bar, the metal kid had somehow gotten himself all the way to the back of the room, and he rolled his eyes. Well, if he just wants to sit down, fine by me. Jordan had to hope they would answer soon, or else he would start focusing on something else entirely, and they would probably be lost as to what was wrong with him.

Lucius nodded, and raised his finger to grab Jordan's attention.
"Do you happen to have any coffee? I'm dead tired from walking all over the place." he said as he slung his "now" dry jacket over his shoulder. It wasn't that he was able to purchase these things willy-nilly, although due to his adoptive mother's death and his inheritance, this was true. He'd had this jacket ever since that fateful day, and it was his last material remainder of his mother, who had always worn it up until her death. It was one of the few possessions he had kept, and he would never have been able to handle it if it had been damaged.

As he looked around, he felt Chaos speak to him, telling him these people his age, obviously other important characters, seeing as they looked radically different from the background characters, were his enemies. Lucius immediately told Chaos to stuff it, this was his day off, and he wasn't going to be ruining it any time soon. As he looked at them, he began to formulate his own opinions on them. The red-haired one seemed very crass, not really giving a damn one way or the other about things, and probably just thought Lucius some dumb rich kid thanks to the jacket. He'd be half right. The green and black-haired one... Geez, what was this, an anime? He seemed like he had just come from the middle of a lion's den... Brontophobia? Maybe. He DID seem more comfortable as he had walked in, though. Maybe his power was empathy... Lucius would have to watch what he thought around this guy, just to be safe. The BLUE-haired one... Nonono, Lucius, this isn't the time to start remembering the theme to Gurren Lagaan, no matter how kickass it is. The blue-haired one seemed like a bit of a ditz, yet... there was something there he was missing... Dammit, he was too busy staring at her to even THINK of reading her personality at a glance. He decided to just sit at the bar and wait for a little while, his jacket hanging off the back of the seat. He'd have more than enough time to handle the new monsters here in Chaos' stead tomorrow.

Rain poured endlessly from heavy grey clouds that loomed above a normally picturesque landscape. It was ceaseless and it darkened the rolling fields and clumps of forests. Animals ran or flew to safe havens and settled there to ride out the storm. Flashes of lightning split the sky for mere seconds and rumbles shook fiercely. And nestled among it all was a tiny little village, that housed very few. But in the centre of the this village was an Inn. The Merryfellow.

Luna played the dream over and over in her head, until she thought of little else. Of course she only had the barest knowledge of where she was actually heading and that had come from analysing her dream closely. She could end up anywhere and it was only her own determination that kept her going. The dream had come to her just a few days previously, when she had left the mountain range and was camping beneath a gnarled oak tree that was upon the banks of a twisting stream. It had woken her violently from her slumber, slick with sweat and with a fresh destination in mind. Without hesitation, she had packed up and set off into the night. Now, she was still trying to find it, attempting to beat the rain before it began to fall.

Hoisting her handmade bag further on her back, she bowed her head against the strong wind that blew relentlessly against her slender frame. Despite a thick hood made of fur, it still nipped icily at her ears and neck, blowing strands of pure white hair around her face. Impatiently, she brushed them back, securing them with a tie before continuing to battle forwards. Crossing a meadow of swaying grasses and flowers, she pushed through a thicket of bushes emerging with a flourish on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she surveyed the area. And there is was, the little village she had dreamed of. A rare smile tugged at her lips as she adjusted her hood and fur-lined jacket. True, it was too warm for them both, but she wouldn't be without the last items of clothing her mother made for her. As she took a step forwards, the rain began to fall and the first fork of lightning split the sky. Pulling a face, Luna began to jog forwards down the sloping hill and towards the village.

By the time she reached the bottom, she was completely soaked to the skin. Increasing her speed, she weaved through the tightly packed buildings and towards the Inn that was nestled in the middle. Bursting through the door, she tumbled, nearly falling flat on her face. Straightening, she immediately tugged off her hood and discarded it on a nearby table. Her white locks tumbled around her shoulders, the gem on her forehead caught the light as well. Pink flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes that searched the Inn for a second. They locked on a group of people, with odd coloured hair, much like her own. Frowning, she pulled her sopping jacket off. Someone whistled, but she ignored them, with only eyes for the small group. Even her clothes underneath were drenched, but she ignored this also.

Cautiously, she walked up to them, fluttering her eyelashes slightly to be rid of the water. "Excuse me, can anyone help me?"

Lucius, upon the entry of this new person, didn't need Chaos to tell him that this girl was also a target. The stone on her head gave it away, plain as the white hair on her head. He put on his biker gloves to hide the obsidian crescents on his hands, and walked over to the new girl.
"Good gravy, it's like I'm staring at my Bizzaro-self," he said, looking her over again for deception's sake, to prevent her from knowing he'd been watching, and continued. "But I digress. You needed help with something?" As he spoke, he ran his fingers through his hair, both adding to the guy-just-there-to-help look and making him look relatively innocent.

Things were getting out of control. It reminded Jordan of a riot. But not one of the sweet, kickass riots. More like the annoying ones where nobody knew what the heck was going on.

For starters, the rich guy asked for a coffee. Jordan nearly started laughing from the start, and he knew that Mr. Georgeson wouldn't be too thrilled with the knowledge that Jordan had straight on laughed at a customer's request. It was, however, quite blatantly obvious that JoJo was trying hard not to laugh, as he just seemed to be trying to hold in the giggles. Instead of laughing, however, he looked at the guy funny and spoke. "Look, I'm not sure that you understand where you are. Coffee ain't cheap, and you aren't exactly in a house of luxury. But if it's a coffee you want, just be prepared to pay for the thing." Satisfied that he had quelled his laughter (not to mention the rabid thoughts of why he wore gloves that were also leather. He must like cows. Or not.) he was about to hop back over the bar when another person walked in. Female, roughly same age as every other person that was walking in, white hair. That somewhat stopped him in his tracks. White hair? Sounds like a bad joke. A Ginger, a rich boy a white-haired beauty walk into a bar.... wait, I'm already in the bar. Was she batting her eyelashes at me or the others? She has a funky tattoo on her forehead as well.. huh.

Jordan shook his head somewhat. He really needed to reel in his thoughts sometimes. His childhood was full of this sort of thing - he couldn't focus, so everyday life became a huge challenge, but funny as heck. Back to reality, he heard that had asked a question. Excuse me, can anyone help me? As Jordan had somewhat predicted - somewhat... - the rich boy instantly walked over to the young lady and said something to do with gravy and bizzaro. Jordan was now seriously lost with the entire situation, so while the guy was pretending to sound helpful, Jordan made him his damned coffee. To be honest, he could have just told him that they had none - they were in a bar, in a not so well off town. - but he made it for him anyway. You know the process: grinding the beans, boiling the water, etc. It wasn't all that difficult, just boring. When he had finished, Jordan put the black sludge-liquid stuff on the bar, and interrupted their discussion. Something about help.

"Your coffee's done." He then put this in all of the new people's general area. "Now, since I couldn't ask this before, will any of you be staying the night or just getting something actual to drink and moving along?"

Lucius nodded his thanks to Jordan, turned to Luna and said "Excuse me for a moment, Moony.", slammed the whole thing down his throat without even flinching, then placed the specified amount and a 10% tip on the counter, turning back to Luna and continuing, "You were saying?". He knew that this guy was trying to piss him off, and it made him all warm and fuzzy inside to know he was probably going to be making one of his skeletons rip his redhead off. For now, all he'd do was stay calm, and not attract attention in the usual way... And wait for Luna to finish her sentence. And for the record, he was very fond of cows... After they'd been marinated for a few days then grilled and served with a baked potato.

The sound of a shattering teacup permeated the quiet air . . . soon enough it was followed by a woman shouting, “You idiot klutz!” and after that, there was a heavy thud against the ground, the sound of a person hitting the floor. So, it had happened again. She had stumbled whilst serving her Mistress her tea, and managed to let the cup tip off her tray, and shatter against the wooden floor below. Her lack of grace had bested her once more, and it’d gotten her hurt again, like it always did. This was something she’d grown used to in the last couple of years, failing to meet the expectations of her Mistress and Master, and always being hit or punished for them. For breaking the teacup, her Mistress had seen fit to kick her into the wall with as much force as she could muster up with her aging body.

The other servant girls only looked on as Vega suffered their Mistress’ anger; they had grown a thick skin to these sights, having endured such treatment themselves. There was no compassion, or empathy for the clumsy girl’s accidents in them, none at all. They were used to seeing her mess up, and cause problems, after all, in the year since Abel had brought the girl into his home, Vega had done little more than make more messes than she helped resolve. The child screwed things up a lot as far as everyone in the home was concerned. . . .

“Damn it, she got tea everywhere.” Vega could hear her Mistress seethe from the heap she laid in against the wall. “Enju, get to cleaning that up, before it sets into the wood. Now!”

“Yes Mistress.” The monotonous voice of a young woman answered, and then there was the sound of footsteps leaving the room, Vega knew to where they were headed. To gather up cleaning supplies to sop up the spilt tea.

In this period, she had not at all moved herself. No. Vega remained where she had landed after her Mistress had kicked her, lying upon her side with her small back up against the wall, not making a single noise or uttering a sound of discomfort. Showing any signs of distress would only make all of this worse; it would let the Mistress know that she was in pain, that she was capable of such sensations . . . it was easier if she just remained quiet, no matter how much she hurt. It was better that no one knew, it kept them from knowing what she really thought, it kept them all from understanding her.

Who truly needs to be understood when living in conditions such as these? Vega asked herself as footsteps approached her, and halted right before her limp form. She knew, Vega knew that it was the Mistress who now loomed over her; she didn’t have to cast her crimson eyes up to see the woman’s silhouette blocking out the artificial light to know.

“Well,” she began, annoyance lacing her voice, “Aren’t you going to get the hell up you lazy wench?” At hearing the woman’s words, Vega’s small body twitched just a bit, but her lips remained shut.

There was a huff, before the shouting came. “GET UP! Get up now and leave! I don’t want to see your face in this house for the rest of the night!” Those words were all it took for Vega to ascend to her feet in a but a moment, and to dart out of the room with her eyes cast downward, successfully avoiding the searing glare her Mistress held for her, and the gazes of her fellow servant girls. She was to the front door in seconds, her red cloak already stolen away from the coat hanger nearby and around her shoulders as she darted outside and into the cold rain. Rather quickly, she was darting through the desolate and soaked streets of the village she was bound to for the remainder of her master and mistress’ lives, and she was buckling her red cloak so it’d stay upon her small body as she pulled her hood up and over her head, to hide herself from the world. Even though her boots kept on pinching her toes as she ran, Vega kept at it, keeping her eyes cast down to the ground, hiding her face from anyone and everyone.

People knew her, they knew who she was. From her name to her face, her marriage to Richard Delacroix was something that would forever follow her, and chain her down for the rest of her years. People had hated her late husband, though he’d been one of power, he had been hated. And because she had been his wife, because she was all that was left of him, people hated her too, if they knew her, they hated her. To the world she was useless, her existence was pointless. So, as she kept her eyes to the ground as she rain through the rain, her skin going gooseflesh as her clothes soaked through, Vega simply headed to one destination. Her Mistress didn’t want her around for the night, and with the village utterly desolate and sodden, there was really only one place she could go. The Inn.

She didn’t have to look where she was going as her legs carried her to where she needed to go. The way was engraved entirely into her memory, she’d been there so many times after incidents like before after all . . . even if she wasn’t liked, in the Inn at least everyone more or less left her alone as long as she got something to drink or eat, and minded herself.

Out of breath and tired by the time she reach her intended destination, Vega stopped herself from running right at the doors; breathing harshly, her form soaked through and through. Standing herself up, her head still cast down with the hood hanging over her eyes, she entered into the establishment, dripping from the rain. She knew she was getting more than a few stares; even within the bounds of an Inn she was out of place, she was tiny, her form could easily be taken as that of a child’s, and not as that of a sixteen year old who’d already seen marriage. A soft sigh could only leave Vega’s lips as she knew that more stares were to come her way with the removal of her cloak.

So, with hesitation, Vega went ahead and allowed the hood of her cloak to come away from her face; revealing her seemingly young features, her crimson eyes and inky colored hair that was plastered to her face from the rain. Indeed, there were more stares. . . . A vacant look overtook Vega’s features as she quietly cast her gaze down to the floor as she unbuckled the secure buckle on her shoulder, and removed her cloak from her form; knowing that her clothing was bound to attract unwanted glances and scowls, it wasn’t as if it were the most appropriate of attire. And it wasn’t as if she had much of a choice in her apparel. Her legs were on show for the whole world to see if it were not for the high socks she was made to wear, and the outfit even had sewn in holes on the sides of the torso. . . .

Regardless of the stares, Vega kept her eyes to the floor, biting the inside of her cheek as she hung her cloak up, moving her long ponytail away from getting snagged on anything as she turned around and headed to take a seat not too far away from a group of peculiar people who Vega herself paid little heed to.

Luna backed up a step when a young man turned around to greet her. He was decidable closer than she would have liked and sub-consciously her hands clenched to protect herself. However he appeared to mean no harm, although she noticed a dark, unreadable glint in his eyes. The moment he opened his mouth, she regretted having addressed the small group of odd people or rather she damned whatever had made this one turn to her. But perhaps they were all like this? Maybe when she spoke, she would be the weird one? Forced smile in place, she arched an eyebrow as she listened. The young woman had come from a small mountain village in the highest reaches of the range. She knew little of the world below. This particular one spoke in a manner which she had never heard before in her sheltered life and his clothes left her curious as well. Self-consciously she smoothed down her wet tunic, about to open her mouth to respond when another young man entered the conversation. And then the first one called her Moony.

"Moony," She muttered under her breath, frowning heavily. Of course it was because of her gem and she reached a hand to touch it slightly, before her arm fell limply back to her side and she returned her attention to the conversation at hand. The second man was offering rooms at the Inn.

Turning her head to Jordan, she offered him a small smile. "I would like a room." Her voice was barely audible above the din of the Inn and it had a mysterious quality about it. Leaning in towards them both, she pushed her white hair out of her face. "That is the help I needed. I am not used to...all of this." This she said to Lucius as she gestured around the busy Inn. It was true. She had never left her home before, but back in the village she had nothing else to stay for. With her mother long gone, she had become an outcast in the place she had called home. It saddened her to think that they could so easily cast her out without anywhere to go. But that was the past. Now, she only looked to the future. The pun amused her for a moment and the corner of her mouth twitched. But she remembered where she was and contained the smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted another newcomer and from the colour of her eyes, Luna knew her to be different as well. But this one made no attempt to address the group, only sat.

"I was told to come here a few nights previously when I dream-..." Luna stopped dead. Her secret had nearly spilled from her lips without thinking. And she had promised to keep it to herself in her new life. Swallowing, she quickly opted to correct herself. "When I woke from a dream, because this traveling family had discovered my campsite. They told me this was the place to come to." It sounded bad. Even she could hear the lie in her voice, but it was done now. What did they care about her motives for being there? Clearing her throat, she impatiently pushed her long hair back again. It annoyed her, but she would never dream of cutting it off. Her mother had loved her unique long hair, so she kept it the way it had been when she had passed.

Lucius nodded after Luna had responded, and looked at the group, with another gemstone walking through the door, this one looked easy to break, and Chaos confirmed it. If now wasn't the perfect time to get everyone united, with or against him, or at least knowledgeable of what they were, he couldn't think of another.
"Look, doesn't anyone else feel like we were all called here by something else? Or at least like we have some sort of connection? Because me and Moony can't be the only two with gems embedded in us." With that, he took off the biker gloves, revealing the obsidian crescents on his hands, as black as the darkest reaches of space. With his big secret revealed, he continued. "I know what we are, all I need is for you all to listen, as much as it may annoy at least one of you to have to hear me speak."

Jordan was sure that somebody had planned a riot in the Merryfellow in, just to piss him off. The place was slowly getting more chaotic, and not in that good kind where everybody was being mello and drinking until they were pissing themselves. Nope, this was that sort of chaotic when you had to bring the entire town where he grew up together, knowing that everybody would be confused and annoyed.

It didn't help that Jordan's inability to focus was starting to go awry. His eyes were constantly jumping from one person to another, one scene to another. To help himself focus, he began to recap what was happening in front of him in his mind as it went. To start, the rich kid with the love for cows - he presumed, anyway - was talking to the girl he called Mooney that just waltzed in after he paid for his coffee. Slowly, Jordan willed himself to grab the coins from the table and put them in their right place in the vault. It he didn't focus on one thing at a time, he would lose it. Next came the opening of the door and a girl that seemed like she was from the neighborhood he grew up in walked into the Inn. Originally she had a cowl - a nice, dark black one. Interesting that she- no, no, focus Jordan... - and she took it off to reveal that she was showing a little more than he was used to, but then again she wasn't that far off from his promiscuous sister. It then clicked - he had noticed her numerous times in the Merryfellow Inn before (though, for some reason, the Merryfellow part didn't stick with the locals very well...). He was about to jump back over the bar to greet her, the white haired miss spoke up and answered the question he really needed answering.

I would like a room. While it wasn't as loud as he would like it, he gave her a smile and jumped over the bar anyway. She then directed her next line to rich cow boy, but Jordan could hear it anyway That is the help I needed. I am not used to...all of this. Jordan raised an eyebrow, and decided that he would speak to her later. People that didn't visit Inns were usually two different sets of people: You had your pompous fools that never came out of their damned castles, and got all their ale delivered. Then you had those nut-jobs that never left their houses/caves/holes to socialize. Regardless, that little statement was confusing as hell to Jordan, which didn't help the organization of the area. He slowly began to shuffle over to where the blue haired lady and the somewhat regular miss until the Lady-with-white-hair spoke once more.

Instead of understanding, Jordan just shot her a look of completely confusion. Dreams? Telling people where to go? Jordan had yet to experience something like that. He had remembered his brothers discussing that they were on some form of drug and heard voices, so JoJo gave the idea that maybe the Lady was hallucinating. Regardless of her sanity, it was the Rich-Cow-Lover - Debatable... - that Jordan swore had cracked. Look, doesn't anyone else feel like we were all called here by something else? Or at least like we have some sort of connection? Because me and Moony can't be the only two with gems embedded in us. I know what we are, all I need is for you all to listen, as much as it may annoy at least one of you to have to hear me speak.

Jordan was puzzled by why this kid had ugly black stones in his hands. He never thought once that there could be other 'people' like him out there, nor did he really care. He also took offense to that last bit, for he could tell that was jabbed at him. So, before he could continue speaking, before anybody could pitch in and make this even more crazy stupid, Jordan pipped up over everybody.

"Excuse me!" He paused for less than a second to let everybody hear him, and then continued. "While this is all fine and dandy, and I am sure that you would love to spill your guts about secrets of the stones and such, I have some pressing matters to attend to as the barkeep." He stopped, then put up a finger and pointed it at the Mooney miss, then put it down just as quickly. "We do have a room available for you Miss for a small..." He paused, really quite hating the word. "Fee. Next, are any of you wanting to have a room?" He looked around at the entire new company. "Finally, so that you can get back to your conversation..." He turned to the short miss in the worn down clothing and smiled. "Welcome back Miss. Care for a drink?" After that, he moved again, never seemingly stopping. "Thanks for your time, carry on with your conversation people."

As sure as he sounded, Degall wasn't going to hop on this guy's idea of some higher power pushing them together. Fate wasn't just something he believed in. Not only that, but he didn't trust him either. Their rings shared the same eerie, dark light and that had to mean that they were alike in some way. Degall wouldn't even trust, well, another him. He knew that he wasn't the best person to be around and people like him, well they're always going to do something unexpected, whether you like it or not. The creak of someone taking a seat nearby snapped him out of his thought process. With a snap of his head, his eyes locked on Vega. "Another one hmm? Let's see if I can get this one on the first guess." He thought. A cheap trick was good enough for the time being, something to entertain himself and get her attention. Simultaneously, he rolled one of the stones in the corner into her foot and snapped his fingers. A smooth transition, a well placed prop, or in this case, ring was all it took. As they sharp sound pierced the air around him, the opal ring slid from it's hiding place in his hand, out onto his extended fingertip that was pointed at Vega. As he finished his little calling card, He turned back towards the other group, listening to what the obsidian had to say. As he heard Jordan's question though, his thoughts returned to why he'd come here in the first place. "'Scuse me bar keep. If I could bother you for something strong. A more than fair tip if it can down me in two shots." Some of Degall's pride lay in his ability to absorb massive amounts of alcohol. It stemmed mostly from the shine his - Maltin had kept for special occasions. That stuff could knock a cow on its ass before it finished the first drink. Last time he checked though, Degall made it through four glasses of the stuff before he blacked out.

She simply intended on minding her own business; that really was all she wanted to do. After managing to get herself kicked from her Mistress’ sight for the remainder of the night, she simply just wanted to be left to herself, to make sure that she was in no one’s way, nor that she was a bother to anyone. The last thing she desired was to be an active annoyance to anyone, at least, no more than she already was. People in the village didn’t like her, and the local regulars at the Merryfellow Inn regarded her no better, travelers often didn’t know who she was unless explained to . . . peace was half and half within the Inn, and as things were for her, that was about all she could expect. Within the walls of the Merryfellow, she could at the very least expect stares, if not because people knew who she was, but because of her clothing, the way she was dressed.

It was likely that some people found her attire improper, maybe even offensive. That was the fault of her perverted Master, the man never touched her, but he made all of his servant girls wear such . . . clothing like her own. It showed too much for comfort, and was provocative, and especially inappropriate for someone like her to be wearing, looking like a child and being in such dress was on a level of disturbing, as least, Vega believed that well may be the case. She didn’t know much of the world, and she feared learning more than she already had; if the world were already as bad as it was for her with what little she knew, then . . . how worse could it be if she learned more?

Although, it was not as if she had to worry about learning more; her life and fate was sealed. She was a widow, and had been claimed by her brother-in-law, then ultimately made to be one of his servants. Her life belonged to not herself, it belonged to another person, so what did she really have to worry about now? My existence is fated to be as it is, there is no changing what Destiny has lain out for me. she thought to herself, tuning the noise and rowdiness of the Inn out as she kept her eyes averted from every other human in the room. Vega kept her crimson eyes cast to the table she sat at as she brought her hands up onto its surface, and laced together her gloved fingers. I can feel the stares of others’ upon my person now, the locals do not desire my presence here, they would rather I leave immediately.

Richard had been a rigorously hated man, though he had power, he was still loathed by more than he’d ever understood. Following his death, Vega came to understand the severity of that loathing herself. Even his own brother had hated him . . . and as his survivor, Vega was subject to those lingering bitter sentiments.

As a small sigh left the girl’s pale lips, her face colorless and pallor from the emotional strain she’d been putting herself under for so long, her attention was interrupted, and she was pulled back into reality; the full noise and commotion of the Inn hitting her at once, causing her to wince, grimacing. Her small body tensed up, and it was hard for her to not flinch inwardly as she was used to when startled within the constant presence of her Mistress. Something had hit her foot, she wasn’t sure what, but it had caught her attention enough for her to cast her gaze downward at the floor. A stone had come into contact with her foot, a puzzled expression formed over her face and she looked up, only to see an unknown man, someone she hadn’t seen before pointing right at her . . . and to see that something was moving as well, before a sharp, noise permeated the air and caused Vega to flinch before she tore her eyes away from him, and back to her hands on the table as a person neared her. What . . . what does he possibly want from me? she thought, feeling fear begin to creep into her bones.

The person before her though, the one who had not pointed at her, she glanced at him for a moment before she averted her gaze again, keeping her eyes on people for too long always led to bad things happening. It was a young man, probably not much older than herself who seemed to be a server for the Inn’s food and drink services . . . his hair was oddly colored, a combination of red and black, pulled back into a ponytail. And while he greeted her with a smile, Vega still couldn’t help keeping her eyes drawn to her hands on the table. "Welcome back Miss. Care for a drink?" A ‘welcome back,’ so, he’d seen her here before. . . .

Before she could muster up enough of a voice to give him an answer, she heard the voice of the man who’d pointed at her, and seemed to have made a stone knock into her foot. ”Scuse me bar keep. If I could bother you for something strong. A more than fair tip if it can down me in two shots." Vega looked at him again for just a split second as she opened her mouth uncertainly, knowing she needed to place an order as well, or lest she just waste this man’s time.

Forcing it out, Vega gave a very quick nod to the man with red and black hair before she gave her order about as quickly as humanly possible, “Yes, I will just take whatever sort of tea would require the least amount of trouble to make, please.”

Just as quick as her words left her throat, he was moving again. "Thanks for your time, carry on with your conversation people."

She had no conversation to carry on with, no reason to speak again except for when she would pay a thank you to him when she got her tea, beyond that, Vega had every intention on keeping her voice locked away in her throat as long as she could, even with that stranger pointing at her with the moving ring. There was no denying the tenseness upon Vega’s features and in her small body, she sat as stiff as a board, barely even moving to breathe. Even here she felt uncomfortable, attention had been drawn to her by someone she’d never seen before, and if the locals didn’t already pay her enough heed, this was just making it worse. The stares, she could feel the stares upon her person. . . . How she just hoped that people would go about their own business again soon and leave her alone, as she desired.

But, she heard it, even if she wanted solitude, and to not be noticed, it looked like she was not going to receive that pleasure tonight. She’d escaped her Mistress for now, but. . . . “Hey, isn’t that . . . isn’t she his . . . ?” The woman’s voice was soft, suppose to be guarded, and quiet, as to not draw attention, but it wasn’t. It was loud enough to be heard by even her.

The stares again, “Who are you . . . ? Oh, oh her? That thing in the lascivious clothing there?”

“Yes, her! Who else would I be talking about?! You know that only Sir Delacroix’s servant girls wear that indecent stuff around. But, what I’m asking is if she’s that one?”

Vega tensed up as she more muddle whispers seem to flitter in and out of her hearing, and a part of her was certain that many of those were focus on her.

There was a scoff of what sounded like disgust, “Hell yes, that’s her, she’s his widow; the bastard Richard.”

She bit down on the inside of her lip as more soft and hushed voices seemed to permeate the atmosphere of the Inn, changing it from rowdy to something of a quiet one of seething disgust when her late husband’s name came to be mentioned, her being pointed out as his widow. Vega was more than ready to just bolt right then . . . if even one more thing was said, she’d rather face the night and the cold rain than this.

Lucius shrugged at Jordan.
"No need, I live half a mile from here, and I just needed time to get my wind back. Not my breath," he said, before Jordan could say anything, "Wind. Well, Jordan Silith Telisay, Luna Aea, Vega Sterre Delacroix, Degall Saorius, Aysu Muirgen Dikeledi, if any of you wish to know more, I'll be waiting in the big house at the foot of the volcano to the South. Goodbye for now." And with that, he walked into the rain, every single drop that would have touched him spraying off of a small barrier of wind, leaving a rather misty effect to his departure. As he walked back to his house he wondered what would happen in the next few days. Either at least one person would come to his estate to learn more, or none of them would come. Either way, he got off his vacation in three days, after that, they were fair game. Upon his return to the house, he took his coat off and placed it on a specially made coat rack, the plaque above reading, "May her heart rest in peace, but her spirit keep fighting." He then knelt over the fireplace, making a few sparks off of his knife, and, using the wind to stoke the flames, got the hearth going as he laid back in a worn seat and listened to the rain.

Luna smiled politely back at Jordan, though she doubted that he even saw it. The young man hurried away before she could get another word in. Not that she minded. Explaining herself was not something that came easily to her. So instead, she simply leant against the bar and found that her eyes followed him interestedly. There were now many people in the Inn and it was evident that he had his hands full with the sudden influx of customers. He seemed to be constantly on the move, as though nothing in the world could stop him. His attention didn't seem to linger on anything for too long, she noticed after only a few seconds of watching. Luna liked to watch people. There was much you could learn from simply observing, such as on this occasion. It was clear that he cared little for the reasons they were gathered, but rather on doing his job properly. Flitting around, he finally addressed the full group of people, stopping only to talk to the last woman who had entered. Still she sat alone and no-one made a move to talk to her.

Now that she looked more closely, Luna could perhaps see why. The young woman was dressed it clothing that may be considered slightly risqué for the rest of the world. Glancing around, she spotted many looks thrown towards her and even more whispered comments behind hands. Frowning, Luna pushed off the bar. If there was one thing that she disliked it was the inability to speak one's mind, but instead to do it behind a cupped hand or to a trusted ear. Without a seconds hesitation, she strode across the Inn and tugged a lonely chair across to the woman's table. Taking a seat, she offered a gentle smile, ignoring the sudden increase in whispers from outraged customers who turned to partners or friends to complain. Didn't that woman now who she was? Would she so readily sit with her if she did? Yes, she would have. Luna was not one to judge so easily and this would be no different.

So, she struck up a conversation with her.

"Ignore them, they are nothing more than blithering morons who know nothing more than to judge a person without a thought for their feelings. Nor to consider what they are actually like." It was said loud enough for a few of the closer ones to hear. That had been intended. Shooting them a dark look, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned her attention back to the woman. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is..."

Luna had actually tuned out of what was going on with the group behind her, but two words rung loud and clear in her ears. "Luna Aea". Whipping around in her seat, she stared darkly at the man in the weird jacket who had been the first to address her. He knew her name. He knew her by name and she was yet to utter it inside this Inn. In fact, he knew all of them by name, from the looks on the other's faces. And then he just left. Just like that. What the hell had that been about? Sitting in a state of shock, she chanced a glance back at the woman who she had joined at the table to see her reaction...

Jordan finally felt like the bar was finally returning to a somewhat normality when the metal ranch hand guy piped up. 'Scuse me bar keep. If I could bother you for something strong. A more than fair tip if it can down me in two shots. Jordan gave the man a sly grin, loving the challenge the man had given. True, judging by the confidence in his voice, he was completely sure that Jordan didn't have anything that was strong enough to take the guy out in 2 shots. However, Jordan did have a little trick up his sleeve for those that wanted something strong. To put it into perspective, and to help Jordan visualize what he was doing, if he gave two shots to a horse that the metal ranch hand worked with, it may take it out. However, the key word was MAY. Wait, or was it OuT? Regardless, Jordan had to make the concoction right or it wouldn't be as strong as it could be. "Now that is a the kind of thing I wanna hear. Two shots of Ginger Fire coming right up." Ginger Fire was the name he gave to the thing he brewed up in the back, and it usually was quite popular for the men - their wives, on the other hand, were furious when they couldn't come home from being too drunk to stand.

He was just about to head back to the bar when he heard a soft voice calling from behind him. He turned around rapidly at the beginning of the girl's sentence. He nearly missed what she was saying, for it went so damned fast that he couldn't keep up. And he thought he could talk fast at times... Yes, I will just take whatever sort of tea would require the least amount of trouble to make, please. He gave her a curious smile, and then nodded. "Right-o miss. One warm tea, coming right up!" Now, everybody that he ever met knew that he couldn't cook worth a damn. Yet, when it came to any form of beverage, the guy could make it like a pro. So he hopped over the bar while the rest of the Inn continued with their conversations, and White Haired Miss sat with the Smaller miss. He started first with the Ranch Hand's Ginger Fire, slowly adding the different herbs and ales to make it right. However, he was interrupted when somebody called his entire first name out. Well, Jordan Silith Telisay, Luna Aea, Vega Sterre Delacroix, Degall Saorius, Aysu Muirgen Dikeledi, if any of you wish to know more, I'll be waiting in the big house at the foot of the volcano to the South. Goodbye for now. Jordan stopped what he was doing and instantly narrowed his eyes at that Rich Leather Mister. Jordan rarely used his middle name, Silith, anymore. The last time was when he used it as an alias in a town a few months back.

When Jordan shook off that man's statement - something about a volcano in the area? Where the hell was that thing?! Now Jordan had to go see it... - he focused back on the drink. He knew that something had probably gone wrong when the man was talking, so all he could do was hope for the best. He then grabbed the kettle, which he had placed as soon as he jumped over the bar - and poured it into a tea cup with the tea bag inside. Grabbing a little pitcher of milk, he set all of these items on a tray, jumped over the bar, grabbed that tray, and was about to proceed over to the man he assumed was that name 'Degall' (How would you pronouce something like that? Deee Gal? DayGal? ACK...) when he looked over at the rest of his visitors. A lot of them seemed to be huddled around their tables and looking over at the smaller girl - she somehow looked familiar, but Jordan couldn't put a thumb on it - and even the men at the bar themselves were huddled. He looked around the hall, and piped up. "Oi! Gossiping is only to be done by old women, the barkeep and drunk folk. And NONE of you are drunk... so how about a round on the house, eh?" A few cheers went up as the huddles somewhat dispersed and Jordan made his way over to the Ranch hand presumably named Degall.

"Well, here we are: two shots of Ginger Fire." He gave a small smirk, and whisked away. While he wished to see his results on the man, he couldn't stand still. He then made it over to the lady called Luna and the familiar one, and placed the tea down, along with the milk. He knew he was somewhat intruding, but in a playful manner. "And here is your tea miss. A word of advice to you both before I take my leave.." He was about to say it, but then paused as a fly few across his face. Giving a little snarl, he smacked it out of the air. When he faced them once again, he drew a blank on what he was going to say, so he shook his head. "Never mind that. You look awfully familiar miss, but it isn't my place to wonder, since the bimbos of the bar will probably let something leak out during the night. So enjoy your drink." He gave one last smile before quickly darting back to the bar and preparing that round of drinks for the others. Mr. Georgeson would probably find out in the morning, but he would be gone within 2 weeks anyway - this place was starting to get a little old.

Although she was doing her very best to not let it seem as if she were suffering from the effects of anxiety, of trepidation as the people within the room went about gossiping, there was no denying the nervous air that had sprung up around Vega as she silently suffered this the best she could. Facing the rain and falling ill would be better than this. . . . The people hated her; they always had and always would. Nothing would ever change, her life would always be this, running away and quietly enduring the things said about her, the unwanted attention the nasty and unrepeatable things onlookers spewed about her, just because of who she’d been made to marry.

Vega’s breathing had become somewhat rushed, as she grew nervous; her heart beating so damn fast that she was beginning to shake, her fingers were interlaced and held together so tightly that her little hands shook on top of the table. It was just about to become too much for her to handle anymore, she was almost ready to bolt from her seat right then, and to just face the rain and darkness outside when . . . the sound of approaching footsteps made her completely freeze. When the footsteps stopped before her table, and the sound of a chair’s legs scraping the wooden floor below hit Vega’s ears, she couldn’t help her eyes flittering up from staring so intently at her own hands to see who was daring to take a seat across from her. The onlookers always gossiped and said allowed terrible words to slip from their lips while travelers always just watched, quiet and curious of her story. No one ever bothered to come close to her, distance was kept, until, well, now.

Even trying to compose herself, Vega undoubtedly came off as timid, and meek as she sat there, glancing up at the person who’d broke the normal response to her, and actually came and sat down across from her. It was a woman, perhaps one of the oddest looking women Vega had ever seen in her short life, but even with the strangeness about her person, she was still beautiful in a way Vega didn’t know how to describe. Her features were light, her hair was a silvery white and her eyes a crystalline blue while her skin was pallor, but in a healthy way. She held a kindness to her, and it was something Vega found herself able to perceive, she was not the same as the ladies she was used to serving and interacting with under her Mistress and Master. She is . . . is not someone I need fear. . . . she told herself. And, though there was still indeed an air of uncertainty about Vega and the actions she would choose to take, the girl hesitantly turned her head upright to look upon this stranger completely, without simply glimpsing upon her from under her own bangs.

Vega kept herself quiet as she began to speak to her, "Ignore them, they are nothing more than blithering morons who know nothing more than to judge a person without a thought for their feelings. Nor to consider what they are actually like." she was fearless, her remark was enough to rouse the irritation of those people closer by to the two of them. The tone in her voice, it made Vega slink down a bit in her seat. This woman was talking to her, her words were kindly ones though, they weren’t . . . mean, they didn’t hold any hostility. Something that she wasn’t used to. The stranger’s gaze came back to her, while Vega’s own flittered about the people around them, seeing the scowls and looks of annoyance, disgust. . . . But, those crimson eyes went right back to the woman across from her when she began to speak again, "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is..."

She stopped speaking as the voice of someone from a nearby group spoke up, a man who Vega did not recognize. “. . . .Luna Aea, Vega Sterre Delacroix, Degall Saorius, Aysu Muirgen Dikeledi, if any of you wish to know more, I'll be waiting in the big house at the foot of the volcano to the South. Goodbye for now." When the woman’s attention was caught, Vega’s was as well. She heard the name ‘Luna Aea,’ followed by her own. Hearing her own name spoken aloud and by a stranger, it made her heart leap high into her throat, a sharp breath leaving her. Her name was a known one, but for someone to blatantly announce it within a room of people, half of which would rather see her dead than alive, it was enough to stir up the fear within Vega again. She didn’t know what he was talking about though, knowing more about what?

What business did he have with her? Or any of the people whose names he’d spouted out before he just left. I-I, he did not just address me, it was a group of us, people here in the Inn for some reason. For what reason, I know not, he is not a familiar face. . . . she thought, swallowing hard while she forced her eyes down to the table underneath her hands again. The woman across from her, she was looking to her again, Vega could feel her eyes. The name which had caught her attention, it’d been ‘Luna.’ Her name . . .? Vega reasoned, unsure. Before she’d stopped speaking, she had been intending on giving her name. Was her name then ‘Luna?’

Taking in a shaky breath, Vega drew her eyes back up and looked at Luna, revealing that her features carried just as much uncertainty as her own. She didn’t know how to react, for more than one reason. For one, this Luna was showing her kindness for no reason, two, the situation was one with which she was unfamiliar, and three . . . what could be done? To the woman, Vega could only hesitantly shake her head back and forth in silence.

"Oi! Gossiping is only to be done by old women, the barkeep and drunk folk. And NONE of you are drunk... so how about a round on the house, eh?" That startled Vega again, causing her to about jump out of her seat. While she knew well enough how loud the Merryfellow could become, someone full out shouting like that was not something she had been expecting. A small yelp came from her throat as she quickly composed herself again, and forced a sense of calm into her body, trying to look it best she could. For the people who were now cheering around, roused from their focus on her, and for the fact that she was no longer alone; another was sitting across from her. A tint of red trailed over Vega’s near ghost-white face in embarrassment.

With this, a cup of tea and a little pitcher of milk was set down before her and Luna at the table, causing Vega to look up as it happened, knowing who’d it be. "And here is your tea miss. A word of advice to you both before I take my leave.." He tried to say something, yet he became distracted, and it caused Vega to merely look at him, looking tentative. "Never mind that. You look awfully familiar miss, but it isn't my place to wonder, since the bimbos of the bar will probably let something leak out during the night. So enjoy your drink." He gave a smile and went back about his work.

Familiar, of course I would appear as such. she thought with a sigh, looking back down at the cup of tea and the milk, trying to gather herself back up, to put her mask back on before more of it fell apart. Enough of it had already slipped apart.

Taking in a deep breath as she unlaced her thin fingers from their death grip of each other, Vega reach out toward the tea and the milk, pouring just a bit of the latter into the former. A solemn air had overtaken the girl as she performed this simple task, it was something she had to do time and time again in service of her Mistress and Master, and despite the number of time she’d managed to screw it up, missing the cup as she tried to pour the milk, making the liquid overflow and spill, it was still an act which she knew well enough. Right then, the appearance she carried was a conflicting one, one of both a servant and one who seemed to be doing something to which she was unsuited. I have to remain calm, even if I am not comfortable. There is no point in showing a weakness such as this to anyone.

Remaining quiet until after she’d finished replacing the lid upon the milk, Vega took the warm cup into her gloved hands before momentarily glancing back up to Luna. “. . . .I heard your name spoken by that man, as you heard mine. You are Luna Aea, and I am . . . Vega Delacroix.” She finished, not wanting to say her own name, “I do not recognize him, nor did I know of which he spoke. Though, I am not astounded to know that he knew my name, you though, are not within a similar state of affairs, I suppose.”

Vega kept her voice monotonous this time, calm and reserved. Her young voice seemed strong, too strong for someone of her appearance. Delicately, Vega sipped at the warm tea, minding herself as she did so. “You are brave, Miss Luna, for speaking so boldly toward the clientele in this establishment, women of this region are often not so . . . liberated of mind and undaunted.”

Lucius grinned as Chaos relayed him info about what was going on from one of their agent's in the bar. His plan to leave them guessing seemed to be taking effect, planting the seed of curiosity to blossom. It was only a matter of time before they came unto him... And even he had to admit he would have been curious to know how someone he'd just met knew so much.

On the way in, the young boy couldn't help but notice the man walking out and the looks he gathered by people already in the inn. It would be too hard to try and get home now, but it was okay, since his mother and father couldn't possibly care if he came home a bit late. He was fifteen, after all. However, the boy walked in with a box in his arms, tightly wrapped in a coat to keep in dry and a big grin on his face. Instant staring. He imagined unsaid thoughts, commenting on what a young boy he was. That just made him smile more as walked up to the barkeep. "Hey, Mister," he started quietly, glancing around. It seemed that the unsaid thoughts were beginning to get said. Oh dear. Well, everyone seemed somewhat happy anyways. Maybe it was because of the drinks going around.

To Karmanine Wyusu, the inn looked like it was filled with lots of odd people. When his eyes rested on normal people, he felt nothing, finding them slightly annoying. He frowned, straightening out his knee length black shorts. His hands were fixed on a box, held tight to his body and covered in the coat he left the house in.

His shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, was completely soaked and so was the long sleeved grey top underneath. Luckily enough, however, his boots had managed not to gather a puddle of water at the bottom, and for that, he was grateful. "Can I have something warm to drink? Like tea, or coffee. . . . or hot chocolate." Karma looked thoughtful for a minute, trying to decide if there was any of those three things he just stated that he wouldn't want. Nope; to be honest, he really didn't care.

With a glance around the room, he spotted no one of real interest. All the people sitting down looked like old grannies to him, except that girl, the one with the white hair, and the black haired one who seemed to be the subject of many conversations dotted around the inn. There was that person at the bar, the one who'd just been given a drink, and then the barkeep. Then there was that girl with the blue hair and the odd birthmark. No, there was no way that was a birthmark. He stayed quiet, putting his cake down in front of one of the older ladies, a sweet smile on his face.

"Delivery~!" he laughed, unwrapping his coat from around the box and the woman smiled back at him. With a perfect grin on his face, he said "Ah, that smile is so fake. My Mama says I can find you at the Inn rather than home most of the time. Papa then said that's not very becoming of a lady; my Papa is really quite funny sometimes! Well, thank you anyways, Miss!" Karma put his hand out for the payment (this woman had said she would pay on the spot or nothing) and smiled serenely. "Payment~!" The woman shoved money in his hand angrily, before turning to her friends. Some off them had even moved table so they could mutter about her instead of the 'Delacroix girl'. How ungrateful. The girl has a name. he thought, before the boy was struck with an idea.

I should give her a nickname!

Karma paddled over to the girls, Luna and Vega, with the tips of his fingers pressed together with his index fingers just touching his bottom lip. His ruby red eyes scanned the girl, not her, but her eyes, before sitting at one of the seats, around the table. "All the tables are full with gossipy old ladies. I hope you don't mind if I sit here." he grinned with a small giggle. His fingers tugged on his long sleeves, sticking to his skin due to being soaked. Karma slowly unbuttoned the dress shirt above it and left it loose, a yawn escaping his lips before he could stop it. He rubbed his eyes slowly, yawning again, before he blinked around. Being peppy sure was tiring! He overheard the name Delacroix, but he was sure that was a last name. After all, it usually came after the name Abel, but he wasn't too sure about that one.

Being a bit childish, he tended not to really care about other people's situations when he heard the gossipers and instead blanked them out. His eyes glanced up from the table up onto the white haired woman. "I feel so small here~!" Karma's voice was a little quieter this time, as if talking to himself. "Could I learn your- Oh no, wait! I haven't even introduced myself. Mama would be disappointed. . . ." The boy frowned to himself, before continuing, "I'm Karmanine, but you can call me Karma. And you two?"

From the reactions of everyone in the room, Luna would have guessed that the man had just addressed all the “odd” people in the Inn, such as the blue-haired woman or the Inn-keep. No-one else seemed to react. Not the muttering old women huddled in the corners, nor the gruff looking men with pints in their hands. Instead they just carried on their gossiping and moaning without a single bat of the eyelid. Curiously, she scanned the room again as he left, until she was looking back at the black haired woman she sat with. Judging from her reaction, she too was one of the named. Luna could see it in her eyes and she didn’t doubt that her own face held that very look. Curiosity once again got the better of her and she opened her mouth to ask. And then a shout from the bar caused them both to jump slightly and she didn’t get a chance. The bar-keep was scolding his customers for gossiping. A small smile tugged at her lips as she watched him trot over to their little table and place down a tray of tea. Luna realised that she was yet to order anything, but she was going to be staying in a room so what did it matter?

"And here is your tea miss. A word of advice to you both before I take my leave.."

And just like that he was distracted, his advice lost. Again, she smiled, though she did this privately. Who knew how he might react if he thought she was mocking him. She simply found it fascinating how one could lose a train of thought with such ease. Tuning out of his final words with the black-haired woman, whose name she now suspected was Vega, she turned her head as the door opened again. A lad of only fourteen or fifteen entered, soaking wet with his jacket wrapped around some kind of box. Watching his antics, she arched an eyebrow at his confidence. He was a plucky young fellow, who didn’t seem to mind approaching anyone to speak.

“I heard your name spoken by that man, as you heard mine. You are Luna Aea, and I am . . . Vega Delacroix. I do not recognize him, nor did I know of which he spoke. Though, I am not astounded to know that he knew my name, you though, are not within a similar state of affairs, I suppose.”

Luna’s attention returned to Vega as she spoke. Her voice was soft and barely audible above the din in the Inn and she had to strain to hear it. But when she did, her suspicions were readily confirmed. A local did not recognise the man. She did not miss the hesitation, the beat of a pause before she said her own name either. Judging from the whispering she had witnessed earlier, this was a woman who was used to people saying her name with scorn or disgust. So much so that her own name was a struggle to say? Or a struggle to admit? Luna found that unbelievably morose and felt sickened that human beings had made her feel this way. And then with a pang, a painful one at that, she remembered how her own people had treated her. How they had pushed and pushed until she could stand it no more. How they had mocked and disintegrated her strength until she had nothing. Her heart went out to this young woman and already she felt as though she knew her and knew her pain.

“You are brave, Miss Luna, for speaking so boldly toward the clientele in this establishment, women of this region are often not so . . . liberated of mind and undaunted.”

Luna released a small tinkle of laughter, shaking her head slightly. It wasn’t often that someone valued her own views and even less her bravery. At home it had only been her mother. No-one else would even meet her eye, especially after her mother had passed. Until then they had grudgingly accepted her as her mother had standing. But that didn’t stop children her age pulling her hair or pushing her to the ground. And when she was older it didn’t stop the elders saying hateful things, or making her stand out even more by isolating her.

“I am indeed Luna Aea and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Vega. I require no Miss in front of my name, I have never been addressed so and I do not intend to start now.” She said this softly, with a smile on her lips to show that she was still being friendly. “And if that is so, then women of this region need to get off their backsides and explore the world that is so ready to teach them wonders they could only imagine. And perhaps a few manners as well. Today is a whole world away from yesterday. The times are changing and they are stuck in the past with their judging, gossiping ways.” With a shrug, she settled back in her seat and observed the woman for a few moments, as she weighed up her next statement. Luna was well-known for speaking her mind, when she actually spoke up. Usually she would remain to herself, but this woman had sparked an interest within Luna and felt kind of…protective of the timid Vega.

“So, this man is not known here? That is certainly curious. I do wonder if we should travel to the place he suggested and have it out with him. What are your thoughts on this ma-“ Luna was cut off by another taking a chair at their table. In an instant she realised it was the young lad from earlier in the evening. He seated himself with them.

"All the tables are full with gossipy old ladies. I hope you don't mind if I sit here."

“You are more than welcome young man,” Luna smiled, sitting forwards to examine him a little closer. He relaxed at their table almost instantly, though he could see a hint of contemplation on his face as he studied them both. Before she could open her mouth to introduce them, he was speaking, almost to himself.

"I feel so small here!” Luna grinned. He certainly looked smaller than everyone else here, but then he was nothing more than a teenage boy. Height would come in time for him. "Could I learn your- Oh no, wait! I haven't even introduced myself. Mama would be disappointed. . . I'm Karmanine, but you can call me Karma. And you two?"

“I am Luna Aea.” Extending her hand, she glanced at Vega, leaving her introduction for herself. If she didn’t feel confident saying her own name, then now was the time to learn. “And what brings you to the Inn on this foul evening?”

Degall downed the drinks like medicine, quick, back to back and with a grimace. "whew, he wasn't kidding. Two of these things are almost as bad as the brew. Almost isn't enough though." He thought. Shaking his head, Degall pulled a piece of paper and pen from his pocket. He scribbled down "Not bad buddy, but just short of my peak. Next time I'll bring you guys something better." Slid it under the glass and stuck payment for the drinks and a close to %50 tip with a small smiley face doodled on the note. The keep did his best and that was to be admired, so why not reward him a bit more than usual? With that, he stood up, tilted his head and walked outside for some fresh air. The small awning over the patio was enough for him as he pondered his next move. "No doubt that was Opal in there, and Obsidian. Maybe Moonstone? Can't be sure on that one, didn't get the best read." A mental checklist alongside the box of rings was all he had as he tried to judge the other patrons of the bar. "Looks like I'll have to play the waiting game." He sighed as he sat down on the patio, a few feet to the side of the door. "I hate the waiting game."

Many people with strange hair and eyes had gathered in the inn. Some were as bright as red, some as dark as black and others as light as white… All were so various and as different as night and day. Most seemed curious, some seemed knowing or uncaring. Lapis, the bright cerulean fading to white haired girl… She didn’t notice anything different than usual at all.


Life was such a deep, dark subject. It swallowed the girl’s mind. She felt as though she had escaped death when she reached the inn before the dark of the storm. She knew the dangers she faced by traveling alone and she wanted to do everything possible to reduce risk. She didn’t know what came after life and right now, she didn’t want to know.

Something snapped Lapis’ attention… “Aysu Muirgen Dikeledi,” A man spoke her name. Looking at him, Lapis realized that she had no idea who he was… He seemed extremely mysterious… There was a certain… Darkness about him. “if any of you wish to know more, I'll be waiting in the big house at the foot of the volcano to the South. Goodbye for now." At the foot of a volcano? Why would someone build a house near that? Why would anyone even dream of visiting there, let alone living there. Volcanos weren’t to be messed with and Lapis didn’t long to go near one… But if it meant finding out more about herself… Would it be worth it to go? With a shudder, lapis shook her head. It wasn’t as though she was telling herself no… Or perhaps it was a subconscious no… But Lapis was oblivious to the fact that she had even shook her head.

Curious, Lapis looked at all the people around her who she had previously failed to notice.


"Oi! Gossiping is only to be done by old women, the barkeep and drunk folk. And NONE of you are drunk... so how about a round on the house, eh?" An inquisitive line had been spoken by someone… Lapis failed to notice who.

"And here is your tea miss. A word of advice to you both before I take my leave.." A man spoke to the girl with dark hair. She seemed a bit ill…"Never mind that. You look awfully familiar miss, but it isn't my place to wonder, since the bimbos of the bar will probably let something leak out during the night. So enjoy your drink." He smiled to her before leaving.

“. . . .I heard your name spoken by that man, as you heard mine. You are Luna Aea, and I am . . . Vega Delacroix.” The dark haired one spoke, “I do not recognize him, nor did I know of which he spoke. Though, I am not astounded to know that he knew my name, you though, are not within a similar state of affairs, I suppose.” Her voice was rather stale… It went monotone toward the end of her speech. “You are brave, Miss Luna, for speaking so boldly toward the clientele in this establishment, women of this region are often not so . . . liberated of mind and undaunted.”

"All the tables are full with gossipy old ladies. I hope you don't mind if I sit here." A man spoke to Vega, the dark haired girl, and Luna, the white haired girl. He let out a soft giggle. It was then Lapis realized hot distant she was from everyone else, standing near the entrance by herself. Perhaps it would be better not to force herself to speak to someone. After all, she was so spacey she’d miss the conversation anyway…

Deciding to wait before even thinking of going to a volcano and feeling unwelcome to sit near anyone she did not know, Lapis sat herself at one of the few empty tables. A yawn freed itself from within her. There wasn’t much to do aside from rest… Or go to a volcano. Volcanos didn’t sound like fun.

For some reason, Lapis longed to sit near Vega and Luna, but she knew better than that. It would be rude to waltz up to them and attempt a conversation. Lapis felt a bit awkward and creepy from the distance, so she chose to tune out.

Can I have something warm to drink? Like tea, or coffee. . . . or hot chocolate." Jordan turned around and gave Karma - one that he knew, but would rather like to forget at times - a weird look before dismissing him. Only Karma would ask for something as stupid as Hot Chocolate in a bar. Besides, Jordan was pretty sure the last chocolate was eaten. By him.

So Jordan went back to his work, running around with chaotic organization. Most people watching him couldn't understand his thought process through his work at all, even when he had finished. To them, it looked like a blurry man that would stop himself halfway through one project, start another, and finish the first project later on somehow. It made absolutely no sense, but that was how his brained worked - by not really working right. So as he scurryed around, handing out that round that was on the house, he finally came back to where that man Degall (again, how the hell would you pronounce something so obscure? What was with names these days?!) had been sitting, only to find the area empty. He was puzzled for a bit, for he hadn't heard anybody come or go since he gave out a free round, but he shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. It was then that he noticed that small piece of paper with odd little scribblings and a smiley face on it. The smiley face looked nice.

Not bad buddy, but just short of my peak. Next time I'll bring you guys something better. Jordan grumbled a little, smiling as he did. That man had some serious drinking skills, ones that Jordan actually somewhat admired. He was also looking forward to that 'something better' he mentioned. Jordan also really enjoyed that smiley face, and barely even noticed the 50% tip. He grumbled with a sour face as he pocketed it, deciding to use it to pay for some of the drinks he gave out. In all honesty, Jordan detested the coin. It's shininess which brought people scurrying, its value which made people wage wars over it, everything. Even the stupid little picture of the nobleman on it, and that ugly font that they used to make the coin say 1. Ugh, the font was terrible.

Refocusing back on the fact that he was still in charge, he looked over to some of the men who were whispering and chatting about little miss Revealing. They were now joyously laughing to another man's jokes, and having a merry time, but Jordan didn't care for that - he was on a mission to see if he could find out who the hell that girl was. "Oi, you chaps." The men gave him a quizzical look before thanking him for the free drinks. He waved off their praise before they could start singing in a drunken stupor or ordering more. "Look, I'll bring another round to the man that can answer this question." That always perked people up, for drunks always needed an excuse of people to give them their alcohol. "Alrighty, ready?" He paused, like in a race, before quickly speaking in a lower tone so that it would be hid amongst the noise. "Who is that little lady who looks a little scantily dressed for public?" The man to his left instantly banged his mug down, startling the rest somewhat, so he could give his answer before the others. "That tramp? She's Vega Delacroix! Surely you know of the family?!" Now, the man's speech was slightly slurred, but the disdain in the way he said her name was clear - most people seemed to hate her for a reason.

When it became apparent to the man that Jordan hadn't a clue what either 'Vega' or 'Delacroix' meant, he began to elaborate. "Look, she was married to that bastard Richard Delacroix, and.." Jordan instantly tuned him out for a bit as he looked over at Vega with a new understanding of why he had recognized her. Not only had he seen her in the bar before, but the name was quite important, and well hated - Richard was a general in that stupid war against his old homeland - against Miss Rosa's family and friends. A bitter bile began to form in his mouth at the thought of her, and he spat into one of the mugs. It wasn't because he hated the Delacroix family - in fact, if they hadn't started that war and such against Rosa's family, he would probably be one of her boytoys right now instead of at a bar - more soldiers would mean it would have been difficult for him to escape. He finally tuned back in to the man, something about Richard's death? Richard was a terrible name anyway...

"So then she was turned over to become a vagrant for that scumbag Abel, who makes his servant girls wear that sort of thing." The man finished, and the rest gave him a cheer for finishing such an engaging story. Jordan, on the other hand, bit his lip - and when he bites, it bleeds. The blood began to run down his chin a little before he recognized it, but then he mumbled something to the men. "Sorry bout that, I'll bring the drinks." No confusing last comment, no jab at their society. Jordan really had become pensive, thinking about that Miss Vega and her shitty life as a forced marriage kid - and constantly reminding himself that that could have been him. While he got their drinks, his thoughts slowly began to return to normal until he was giving the men his normal smirk, as always. That didn't mean that Vega had left his mind, however.

It was then that he noticed 2 people - ONE! The little redhead Karma had actually asked for something. Jordan nearly laughed when he saw that little devil show up and actually stay. The kid reminded Jordan of himself somewhat, except all that parents BS. Jordan wondered when the kid would realize that parents were a waste of time - or when the kid would actually grow some (He was practically a midget! Especially to Jordan...). The Second - or was it third? - person was the blue haired lady who probably had the most confusing name out of every person that weirdo Cow lover had stated. Jordan didn't even think he could pronounce it right, but she looked somewhat lonely. So, doing his job - and giving one last confused look towards that table with the redhead Karma, White haired Luna and petite Vega (once again, somebody is highly comedic tonight! A Ginger, White haired and petite walk into a bar... No? Alrighty then.) - he walked over to the blue haired girl and gave her a smile. "Welcome Miss, though I do believe I already stated that to you once. Or twice. Anywho, would you like something to drink?" He then looked over to Karma with the blood still apparent on his lip. "And Karma, if you are serious about wanting a Hot Chocolate, bring some damn chocolate next time! You should know by now that we don't carry chocolate often! There are some very obvious reasons why at that...." He paused, since many people knew that he usually ate most chocolate that showed up - it was a delicacy where he grew up, so to him it tasted like nothing of this earth. "Anybody know that Dark Chocolate is supposed to be healthier, but tastes much more bland? At least, to me anyway. Random fact." He said quickly.