Nyks Orion's Story

Nyks walked in fairly quietly and seated himself at one of the empty booths. He took a roll of paper out of his jacket pocket and read over it a few times before sliding it silently away again. He ordered a drink from one of the bartenders and then glanced around the room, nodding his approval. He relaxed in his seat, but knew he couldn't stay for too long. Nyks sighed quietly to himself. He wished he could take a break for once, though that was unlikely.

The rat offers up the lipless smile of an inhuman mammal to the bartender -- ears perking upwards, whiskers sweeping forwards, eyes gleaming and muscles relaxing.
Truth be told, even though it's been in this earth's edge sea-sailing for what, to it, feels to have been at least a year, and despite the variety back at one its origins, the roof rat still receives something of a kick and a start upon hearing such strange things spoken so straightly.

"Aye," it murmurs, pulling the glass in close, eyes watching the bright fluid slosh in the low light.
It's especially difficult when one's not sure where to go from here.
"Not surprising in the least," it says with a sip and shake of the head.

Sitting here's better than sitting in the gutters -- or, for that matter, being stuck seasick in slippery sewage, unable to set sail.
Awfully specific there, the rat's thoughts spinning in its mind, wretch.
Way back when, there were dockside bars back all around those temporary bases that it would always duck into after fleeing from-- from whatever, still unsure of where else it would have gone.
Do that, then go back, and then do it all over again --history, as they say, has a way of repeating itself.
One might make it a habit, being the innocent bystander sitting quietly at the counter while the rest of the bar either erupts into madness or slowly falls into silent reprieve.
Swallowing more of the green spirit, the black rat turns its dark eyes back on the bartender.
Or do most folks learn from their mistakes and figure out how to move on?
Another shake of the head, in an attempt to dismiss the question from the mind, before breaking the silence.

"So, how's it happen with you?"
Its hand rolls the glass, swirling the remaining fluid around in a weak whirlpool.
"I'm just a simple searat, if you haven't noticed -- nothing to do with...angels and demons.
That mean you're not just a bartender, or do those over-and-unders just like to mess with ya?"

The rat straightens its spine, bones popping as it turns to glance around the room, ears pivoting still even as its check-up of the room finishes, muscles tensing and twitching reflexively for a few moments more.
Downing the drink once again, tail cracking like a whip to wrap around the barstool's pole, and then hanging its head, eyes lidding as it attempts to allow the alcohol to amble.
Three straight shots of absinthe so far and it still has nothing more than a heavy headache and light nausea...whatever happened to those rumors of it being an amazingly dangerous alcoholic substance -- where are those vivid hallucinations it's heard so much about?

The rat pushes the glass away, shaking its head.
"That'll be enough fer me."
Its fingers tap upon the countertop.
"What'll the cost be?"

Nyks sipped at his drink quietly, carefully watching the others in the bar and smiling to himself. Funny how big the universe could seem sometimes and how small at others. Not that it really mattered how big or small it was. Either way, it was still his job to protect it. He sighed, then took a long swig of the drink. Now was a time to relax. He wasn't technically working at the moment, so he decided that he'd take the time to rest. After all, he'd just finished a very taxing job. He took another long swig.

Zekil shrugs, "When I was much, much younger I went to the 'Academy' as I refer to it and trained to be solider...they found my speciality to be magic and swords so they mainly focused on that in my training." He says, "Basically if you are a demon in my plane you either die, become a soldier or researcher of some sort. I chose soldier because it meant I wouldn't be stuck in my hell." he explains. "On the mortal plane angels and my kind fought for two different reasons. Demons for darkness, evil and yada yada, angels for light, 'good' and yada yada. While I just wanted a balance, good and light can be just as bad as dark and evil if there is too much. So I left." he says with a chuckle. "Eh I prefer to be just a bartender, but nah I am also a potion maker, magic user and ex-soldier in the army." he laughs. "Gotten into some trouble here, but I am trying to be clean...just don't use the word deal around me...It is very tempting to make them." he explains as he slides the sea rat the bill. "Here you are."

He looks to the other giving a nod to him, "Need anything else?" he asks him with a tilt of his head.

Nyks smiled. "I'm good for now. Thank you." He took another sip of his drink.

Face perking at the bartender's joke, the rat pulls in the bill, leaning in close to read the writing.
"Aye, that's quite a load," it mumbles, reaching into the canopy of its umbrella hat.
"At least you're here now.
Gotta look to the future with bright eyes, as they say, else you'll turn into a blind lemming."
It gives a cursory glance to the other man as he's mentioned, before pulling out a closed fist and dropping a few copper coins, alongside a couple of birch eye beads.
"I...hope this will cover it," it says, now with the thinly laid smile more akin to the lip-stretching of a human.
It tosses a sapphire nazar amulet on the countertop, nodding to it as a tip for him.
"Thanks fer being my server."
Slowly, it is standing back up, a little bit wobbly on its feet, but none the worse for the wear -- not much yet anyhow...it is likely to be later rather than sooner that it will crash into a dead sleep or a drunken stupor.
The rat sighs, passing a hand over its face.

"Better get back to the ship before the rest of the crew does.
Can't let the blasted thing tip over just 'cause th--"
the loud entrance of several strangers sends the rat's fur on end, jumping high into the air, landing on all fours, and then scurrying off in a not-very-civilized (not to mention brave) manner.
A single kicked-down barstool is all that's left in the wake of its flight.

Nyks glanced around at the sudden commotion. He usually reserved himself to fairly quiet places, and the area had suddenly become louder than he was comfortable with. Still, he couldn't bring himself to leave. He noted everyone in the bar and decided to stand back until his help was necessary. No need to jump into a situation before it becomes a problem. Carefully watching the room, he took another sip of his drink, eyes and mind still moving.

As John waited for a bartender to appear, another being had appeared, choosing a place at the counter next to him. This guy seemed a bit... Nervous? No.. What's the word again? Ah, it doesn't matter. This person was obviously a bit scared, don't blame him. He's located near a dead guy with a massive scythe and chains around his feet, John must look like a convict or something.

"Where is this bartender?" John mumbled to himself under the heavy breathing of his gasmask.
Suddenly, the strange person somehow broke down or something... Shouting "STOP IT!" as he covered his ears. Why? Was it John? Does this guy have sensitive ears and John's breathing is like an air horn being blown into his ears? Hm, that reminds me of a certain person... John thought to himself.

"Wha-" Before John could even ask, another person appeared, comforting the strange being. Ah well, might as well turn back and wait for the bartender, the problem is already being dealt with.
The falling of a barstool did grab some attention, but it was seen that it was caused by some scared thing, nothing important... Just wait... Think...
"Vladamir Rostovii..." John spoke to himself, loud enough for other's to hear over his breathing. Of course this would be the first thing to pop up, John's goal is to find the body of this being. He knew this person personally as a legendary super soldier of the Payemyndii Clan. All he could find is that this being died on Terra not long ago, the body would be perfect to add to the army or even to replace this current body which was obviously far out of date.

Maybe someone here knows of this guy, bars are the best place to find information from simple gossip and rumours, a location would be perfect.

The cawing, clucking, chirping and squawking began to fade, and within a few seconds after his yell, disappeared completely to be replaced by Mischief’s gleeful laughter.
“Are you alright?” someone had asked, but Tim was too distracted to hear. He shook his head from side to side as if trying to send away a fly which was buzzing around his face. Lowering his hands from his ears, he looked to the man, Harris. His eyes were wide, startled. Then he flushed.

Mischief had caught the direction from which the man had come and ‘ooohed’ when her attention settled on the violin case. As Tim looked up at the person, Mischief began crooning.
Violin. Geddit. Geddit. Make him play you a love song theeeeeeen, kiss him! It’ll be fun.
“Headache” Tim lied, assuming the man had approached due to his odd, embarrassing behaviour. A reasonable enough excuse. “Really drives me mad sometimes.”
Or hit him round the head with it.
“Really…” His voice had become dreamy, removed.
Pssh.

Gas mask guy is staring at your behind, his companion told him, she sounded like she was biting back laughter but Tim still yelped and positioned himself with a start so that his back was no longer to the ominous fellow he'd observed earlier.

Nyks watched the room silently, taking a sip of his drink and resting his hand, relaxed, on the hilt of his longsword strapped to his belt. He felt like he was missing something. He hated that feeling. It either meant he was paranoid or there was something right in front of his face that he should be seeing but didn't. Either way, it wasn't good for him.

Zekil waves good by to the rat as he hears someone asking for a server as he walks over to him, "May I help you?" he asks as he offers him a friendly smile however he seems...a bit on edge by something. He shakes it off quickly, if a fight broke out he could always teleport away. "If anyone needs a drink, shout em if I am not near ya, I have good ears." he says as he points to his pointed ears with a cheerful grin.

John turned away to ignore the strange child, it seemed like an effort to deal with. He has more important things to deal with of course, like finding that damned body.
And that's when a server had appeared, some strange being with pointed ears and wings. Ah, a demon, such a majestic being. But not really something a necromancer would look up to.
"Ah yes, any drink would do me. Thanks." John spoke to the demon, smiling back. Although that was pretty useless due to the damned gas mask.
"Ah yeah, there's some things I would like to know. Something which should be some rumours or something."