[Nexus] The Black Dragon's Den XV

[Hattish Thing]

[Fight Night]

Billie nods and settles back into the couch, her shoulders lowering.

Previously, she had been tense. She always was after a fight, especially in her current state.

Now though, she felt comfortable enough to sink into exhaustion. Adrenaline had started to cease, leaving her with the ache and little else. Still, she was satisfied - a thousand times more satisfied than she would be through any other activity. Alcohol would help with the ache, anyway. It's sweet embrace was all she needed now, that and a handful of those painkillers she was so fond of. As Ava leans over to set the glass against Billie's scarred lips, she drinks. There's a second there where her steely gray eyes meet with Ava's.

Her gaze is intense, withering all before her. She could stop a locomotive in its tracks with a glare. Yet there's softness there, hidden beneath the razor edge.

An unexpected moment of vulnerability between the two. Once she's had her fill, she sneers and gestures towards a navy blue reefer coat.

With a grunt, she speaks, "Pass me a smoke, if you wouldn't mind." Sure enough, there's a pack in her front pocket.

At Ava's last question, she nods solemnly. "I go where the going's good."

"Not much more to it."

[Shadowcaller]

[Fight Night]

"Nights like these do remind you of your own mortality." Ava remarks as she turns to fetch a smoke, carefully observing how many were left in the pack before handing it to Billie. Or if it seems appropriate, put it right in her mouth.
"Makes me far too... existential though. When I got nothing else to focus on, my mind can drift and you know what they say about wandering minds." She takes out a lighter from her own pocket and offers to light the smoke. "Guessing the fighting helps with that."

[Hattish Thing]

[Fight Night]

Billie just shrugs at that. This wasn't about mortality, not really.

No use going into further detail, however. Her reasons were her own - others didn't need to understand.

The pack of cigarettes is nearly depleted. Ava may notice that a date has been penned onto the front of the box. Billie was very careful about regulating her habit, restricting herself to one cigarette per day. Evenings only, after her work was done. Her smokes were just another tool by which she could attempt to achieve catharsis. The orc nods as Ava sets a cigarette between her lips.

She gestures once more towards her reefer coat. "Lighter's in the left pocket."

Her eyes narrow, "So." She raises a brow.

She's expecting something from Ava.

[Artemis97]

"Oh." June looks down and away, remembering what happened. "Trog's Tavern." He pauses. "That's where the cultists happened. I went in there to get out of the sun and get a drink of water. Went in to the bathroom to wash off some mashed potato from my shirt, and then all of a sudden a sink came alive." It was pretty weird. Luckily Sekhmet got worried when he didn't come back, and then her and Zee went to go rescue him.

...
He blinks.
Then shakes his head, and returns his gaze. "No, you've answered plenty," he counters. "Just trying to get a sense of where's safer and what I should expect and what I should avoid. At least until i get a feel for things myself."

So, actually, June is starting to run out of questions.
But!
There is one!
"Speaking of," he says as a way of introducing the topic, "you know any local libraries or whatevers? To help read up on all sorts of things that are around. I've noticed that a lot of basic words and definitions mean something slightly different than I was expecting, so I had the thought that reading books might help with that."

"Oh sure. There's a few." The drow digs in his pocket and pulls out a card, handing it to June. On one side, it had the name of Abrajin's Library, on the other side it had some basic information about Raril. On the other side, it had his book checkout limit, the weight he could carry before his spine snapped. "That's for Abrajin's. I don't know if you should go there, though. It's a strange place, easy to get lost, and you never know what you'll encounter in the next room. But I think there's literally everything in that library." He'll lean over to take the card back, once June was done looking at it.

"There's the Phillip Memorial Library, which, at least, exists in a regular building and obeys the laws of physics. Mostly. I think. But they're a niche place, specifically dedicated to knowledge about creatures from beyond our world, and how to combat them."

"I think your best bet is a newer place. Bookbinder's Library. Run by a little dragon. They have educational books, mostly, and some fiction for lending. Computers, too, for research. They sell books, too. Well, you can order ones to be printed and bound for you. That can get expensive, but paperbacks are pretty cheap."

[5a Violista]

June nods.

Abrajin's. "...It sounds like it'd be difficult to find things."

Phillip Memorial Library. "Seems like it'd be really useful to answer some of the questions I've got so far. Might even have books on ways to fight mind control." Since that was...priority #5 or something on June's list of priorities. Resisting mind control and mental influence definitely sounds like it falls under 'combat'. After all, books talking about how to combat things will usually go into enough detail to explain the differences and nuances.

And, Bookbinder's Library. "Yeah, you're right, that one does sound really helpful. Especially the computers, I think. Will make finding things really easy."

"So..." June looks down, then back up. "On the topic of work. For a full shift and assuming some basic training, I assume I start tomorrow?" June is assuming in the early afternoon, because that will give enough time to get a rundown of what to do before the evening rush. Since the evening rush is already here right now.

[Shadowcaller]

[Fight Night]

Billie just shrugs at that. This wasn't about mortality, not really.

No use going into further detail, however. Her reasons were her own - others didn't need to understand.

The pack of cigarettes is nearly depleted. Ava may notice that a date has been penned onto the front of the box. Billie was very careful about regulating her habit, restricting herself to one cigarette per day. Evenings only, after her work was done. Her smokes were just another tool by which she could attempt to achieve catharsis. The orc nods as Ava sets a cigarette between her lips.

She gestures once more towards her reefer coat. "Lighter's in the left pocket."

Her eyes narrow, "So." She raises a brow.

She's expecting something from Ava.

[Fight Night]

Ava takes a step back, clears her voice and straightens her back. "Right, the EXP program. It's a exchange program of sort. Intended to have law-enforcers share experiences between districts. While it didn't seem that way when I started working, Brend is very much a small town compared to Inside so I guess you could see me as a small-time guard coming to learn how things work in the big leagues."

[Hattish Thing]

[Fight Night]

Billie nods thoughtfully before resting her head back.

The pain was starting to dull, now she was just so tired. She'd need a proper rest.

In her own bed, where she felt safe. Not here. But then, it'd be rude to bail on this woman. Surely she'd understand, though. Her hands were an absolute mess. Blood had started to mix with the ice water. That knee wasn't healing particularly fast either, despite the ointment and the treated bandages. She takes a draw before exhaling a small cloud of scented smoke. It calmed her nerves, for sure.

Finally, she decides that being straightforward would be the best course of action here.

She says with a heavy sigh, "Right. You have a place you're staying at?"

"Let's meet for breakfast. I need... time."

It should be clear as to why.

[Shadowcaller]

[Fight Night]

Ava is quick to nod in agreement and gestures for the door. "Yeah, I was planning to get out of your hair as soon as possible. Tomorrow sounds fine. I'm staying at..." There's an awkward pause.
"...is there a place you can recommend?"

[Ashen Lilies]

[Assembling the Crew]

Good, introductions had gone simply swimmingly!

Larza is quite pleased, especially so once she gets a better look at the face beneath the gunman's mask.

She loved a good bit of mystery around a man. Now was not the time to fixate on pretty mud people, though - there was business to do! With a confident smirk, she starts to speak up. "It's guid tae catch up wi` ye a'! Th'gither, we'll be able tae pull aff operations none o' us cuid dae alone!" The goblin will accentuate her boastful statement by guzzling down the contents of her glass of champagne. She's a messy drinker, sure to spill plenty of it down her front. In the process of making a mess of herself, she'll wink towards Nocturne.

A photograph is produced and then set upon the table. It depicts the VIGIL skybase.

"Ah trust ye a' ken whit ye'r keekin at?"

[Assembling the Crew

Noc smirks a little as he notices Larza's attention. Okay then.

When the photograph turns up, however, his expression turns somber and thoughtful.

"Hmmm... Vigil are dangerous people to antagonize. I'd like to avoid getting my head chopped off by that commander of theirs. Or set on fire or buried under a mound of lava."

[Hattish Thing]

[Fight Night]

Billie takes a deep breath as she feels the affects of alcohol on her body.

Already, she felt more at ease. The nicotine was helping, as were the painkillers coursing through her bloodstream.

There's a small pause in the conversation. Judging by Ava's somewhat lackluster response, she didn't have a place to stay. This wouldn't be a problem had she not ventured out into perhaps the most dangerous part of Inside. This was not a good place to stay the night at. Her response is quiet, "I'm afraid not, Farstride. It's not safe."

"Especially for people like us. I've a spare room, if you like."

"At my place. It's not far."

---

[Assembling the Crew

Larza simply grins as the others start to respond to her declaration.

Some were shocked, others gleefully enthusiastic. There was fear in the air as well, the atmosphere was electric.

Oh yes, this was where the magic happened. The goblin goes on to explain the situation further, excitement in her voice. "Aye, it wilnae be easy. Bit we've git enough gaun fur us that we juist micht succeed."

"Ye see, a've a plan - 'n' th' contacts tae mak' this happen."

"We're aff tae steal th' treasure vault richt oot fae under thair noses!"

[Artemis97]

June nods.

Abrajin's. "...It sounds like it'd be difficult to find things."

Phillip Memorial Library. "Seems like it'd be really useful to answer some of the questions I've got so far. Might even have books on ways to fight mind control." Since that was...priority #5 or something on June's list of priorities. Resisting mind control and mental influence definitely sounds like it falls under 'combat'. After all, books talking about how to combat things will usually go into enough detail to explain the differences and nuances.

And, Bookbinder's Library. "Yeah, you're right, that one does sound really helpful. Especially the computers, I think. Will make finding things really easy."

"So..." June looks down, then back up. "On the topic of work. For a full shift and assuming some basic training, I assume I start tomorrow?" June is assuming in the early afternoon, because that will give enough time to get a rundown of what to do before the evening rush. Since the evening rush is already here right now.

Raril nods. "Sure. Report to Marcus, and shadow him. We'll give you a few days to get your feet wet, if you don't embarrass yourself, or me, we'll keep you on. Listen to the Goblins, they know more about this place than I do, honestly. Really, I just sign the checks." The drow admits with a laugh.

[5a Violista]

June chuckles along with the admission/joke.
He nods, and then asks, "Marcus is the one that I just met, right?" It sounds familiar, so it makes sense that'd be the one he already met and was introduced to. And goblins, got it. "I'll do my best to not be an embarrassment."

June stands. "I'll be honest, I'm kind-of exhausted," he says. What has he done today? Well, he basically walked to Inside, and then walked all over town. Now that he's no longer hungry or thirsty, the exhaustion in his legs is starting to set in. After grabbing the maid dress, he asks, "You mind if I just go get a room now?"

[Shadowcaller]

[Fight Night]

She raises an eyebrow at Billies warning, looking like she is about to object. But perhaps she thought better. "I shouldn't ask so much of you considering your state. But perhaps, considering the circumstances, I could hire your guest ro- bed for the night." Ava nods.

[Assembling the Crew]

Jaahlyn nods and smiles at Larza. "And I only want a single piece of it as my cut." She points out as she crosses her hooved leg over the other. "A grand plan with, I hope, a grand resolution. Ambition is its own reward."

[Purple Eagle]

[Assembling the Crew]

Of course, the foul little creature's goal is money. When is it not about money? Sure, funds will be useful for procuring more materials, but he was hoping for something more imaginative.

Ah, but what can he expect? Most people seem to be less intelligent than he'd like.

The satyr speaks, and he notes her words. Ambition indeed is its own reward, and following along with this plan will help achieve his goal of furthering scientific progress at any cost. He gets to test out his creations on VIGIL, gain some funding for his projects. If any of his teammates manage to be in the area of effect of his gases, more data for him. "In that case, you can count me in, missy." He finally says in his Southern drawl. "Mind tellin' us just what this plan o' yours entails?" He's not expecting much.

[Earl of Purple]

Assembling the Crew

"I can't teleport with more than I can lift. But I don't need to worry about the fall, I can get off the flying island on my own." And a share of the loot sounds good, even if she thinks she'd be best placed as a distraction, ideally getting people to chase her. That seems tricky, however.

[Artemis97]

"Of course." Raril says to June. "Just ask Blackeye for a key. He's the goblin behind the bar. He'll set you up."

[5a Violista]

"Blackeye," he repeats. He turns to look for Blackeye.
...
What, exactly does a goblin look like? he wonders. What even is a goblin? Seems like there's a lot of different options of what it could be.

Since there's not that many people behind the bar, though, it's not that hard to narrow down. "Again, thanks." He smiles.

Then goes over to the bar to ask which one of them is Blackeye and get the key and go rest.

[FireFox]

A young woman limps through the front door and up to the bar, leaving a bloody bootprint on the floor with every other step. She's clad in skintight armor made from the black hide of some mythical beast, burned through from her right knee to her ankle, and has a sheathed uchigatana tucked edge-up into her belt. She leans against the bar with one pale hand while the other pulls dark-red hair out of her battered and bruised face, tucking it behind her ear so she can squint at the menu. "Damned Soul Nectar... Liquid Agony... Poisonbite Cocktail?" She wonders out loud about those questionable drinks, to nobody in particular.

[Ashen Lilies]

"I personally favor the poisonbite cocktail in that set," says a masculine voice to the newcomer's left. It's smooth and polished, with a touch of accent to it. "Though not if you have anywhere to be the next couple of days. Hangovers, bad. Hangovers and severe poisoning? More bad."

The voice comes from a slender, androgynous looking person seated on a barstool next to the newcomer woman, half-turning towards her with a somewhat bemused smile on their face. The rest of their features are obscured, by a dark mask painted to resemble a night sky, with a pale crescent moon cutting through the left eye, and a dusting of silver stars splashed across a swirling, inky blue sky. The mask would ordinarily be of the full-face sort, though the bottom seems to have been conveniently detached, resting on the bar by a half-full glass of deep red wine. Even with the mask, the stranger is clearly elven, judging from the pointed ears poking out from a disheveled mop of raven-black hair, and their skin is a cool, pale grey, blushed to a bluebell color under the warm lighting of the den. Or maybe that's just the wine?

They're dressed in flattering, form fitting dark clothes - high boots, trousers, a top. The top garment is cut and shaped similarly to a vest, though it has sleeves and goes up to the neck, and is made of a heavy material that, on close inspection, appears to be backed with thin armor paneling stitched in behind the cloth. A long coat hangs from the back of their chair, and from a looped leather belt hangs a long dagger and what looks like an ornate flintlock pistol, though where the firing mechanism would be is instead a recessed well with a glass capsule that glows with an internal blue light.

They give the newcomer a quick glance over, and their expression shifts to one of mild concern, as much as can be told from behind the mask.
"Though in your case, maybe a restorative draught and a visit to a healer might be more suitable? You look as though you have some recovering to do, before you get any poisons into your system."

[FireFox]

The swordswoman turns to look at the masked elf, giving them a professional once-over with red irises glowing like gun sights. Their weapons, armor panels, hands, down to their feet, back up to their eyes. The important parts for making an assessment of trouble. But then her gaze returns to their pistol with an attitude more curious than cautious.
"What? Oh, my leg. See, the problem with magical healing is it takes away your chance to nurse the wound. Injuries are lessons: the more they hurt the more important they are to learn, then the scars remain to remind you." She sits down next to the elf, sighing as the weight gets taken off her busted leg like a student dropping their heavy backpack at the end of the day. "And if you could fix everything with a potion, you wouldn't have a good excuse to wallow in your own pain and misery every now and then." A mud bath for masochists. "Yeah, I could use a good poisoning right now. What's your reason for drinking it?"

[Ashen Lilies]

Noc does notice the swordswoman's appraisal, but pays it no mind. it's common enough behavior, especially in a place like the Den.

"Maybe, but you're bleeding all over the floor. That's a little bit concerning," says the elf, giving the swordswoman a wry smile. "Well, it's good fun. Though I'm not going to be partaking of that particular beverage tonight. Just regular ethanol today. I find the extreme euphoria and delirium the toxins cause interferes with proper brooding."

[FireFox]

"I... am?" She looks back over her shoulder at the bloody prints leading from the door and frowns in disappointment as if the stains had personally failed her. "Tch. That's a little embarrassing. I should have at least bandaged it before I came here." But she makes no move to patch up her wound, instead raising an eyebrow at the elf's last words. Conversation may prove to be a better mental distraction than inebriation. "I like your mask. It really elevates you from drinking alone to brooding in style. Can I ask what's on your mind?"

[Ashen Lilies]

The elf smiles at the woman, tilting his head in appreciation.

"Oh, a few usual preoccupations of mine. Identity, existence, nothing incredibly interesting I'm afraid," he says. "Hmm... maybe I could use some of the good stuff."

[FireFox]

The swordswoman laughs once, short and sharp like a rifle report. "I've been down those trails before. One is what you do and the other's what is done to you, but confusing them for each other is a trap. I gnawed my own leg off to escape the belief I was the thing I was made to be."

She catches the bartender's attention and orders two poisonbite cocktails and a bandage. "I hope your identity prevents my existence from having to drink both of these."

[Ashen Lilies]

The elf gives a chuckle of his own, nodding once graciously.

"Of course not. Sharing a drink is a sublime pleasure, especially with a woman so... interesting as yourself," he says. "So to whom is it that I owe this pleasure of sharing? You can call me Nocturne."

[5a Violista]

The drinks are given pretty quickly, placed one in front of each of the two patrons.

The bandage takes a little longer - it's not readily available at the bar.
After a short while, a server - the redhead (human) June, who would look androgynous too if not for the dress - brings it by and places it in front of the swordswoman. "Sorry for the delay," she says. "If you need anything else, feel free to ask."

She hurries off to go refill someone's drink.

[FireFox]

"You are offering a libation to the Goddess of Hunting: Kynegetis." Mischief dances in her eyes as she holds her glass up to him in salute and watches his reaction. "Well met, Nocturne."

Kyne takes a large sip and rolls it around her tongue like an interrogation while she waits for the bandage. When it arrives June receives a small smile and nod of thanks.

[Ashen Lilies]

Kyne will find her bombshell rewarded by an appropriate widening of the eyes and shocked expression - or at least, she would be, if Noc weren't wearing that damn mask. Alas! Still, even with the full reaction foiled, Kyne might still get a sense of his surprise as he matches her in toast, and takes his own sip, savoring the pleasure of the flavor, if not yet the psychoactive toxins contained within. Not yet, anyway.

"Well, I admit... never shared a drink with a goddess before. Not in the literal sense, at least."

Wow, really? Laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?
Oh shut up. I'm taking these lines from you, you know.
No. My lines are charming. I don't know where you're getting this cornball stuff from, but it's definitely not me.
Look, I'm new at this, okay? I'm not looking to *Rahvi* for help.
And yet, regrettably, I am here.

Nocturne grins awkwardly, seemingly trying to regain some of his composure from Kyne's unexpected reveal. Any semblance of distraction or loss of focus was probably just imagined, or a trick of the light, perhaps.
"So what brings a goddess to a-" Hey, take that back. It's *not* a hole! "-an establishment of such maligned repute as this?"

[Zefir]

A person in a dark purple robe enters the den. The cape is drawn close over his head so his face is barly visible. The robe itself got no ornaments, which makes it appear simplein one hand he holds a staff. On the top of the staff rests an eye or somethign that looks like one which is hold by tentacles. The hand holding the staff is pale white with black claws. It appears like only bone and muscles. As he speaks his voice is trangly loud, even if he doesn't yell. Kinda like his voice comes in thelepatic.

"Listen up dear fellowers.!" he says wating a moment to give everyone a moment to look at him.
"My masters are on the way to this world. They will destroy all that keeps things down and free us from our worldly shakels.
Yet they are on there way, but I was send here to offer you something. If you join our forces and prepare this world for the coming of my master, I can guarantee you great rewards. Whatever you desire can be yours, if you join us."

[5a Violista]

A person in a dark purple robe enters the den. The cape is drawn close over his head so his face is barly visible. The robe itself got no ornaments, which makes it appear simplein one hand he holds a staff. On the top of the staff rests an eye or somethign that looks like one which is hold by tentacles. The hand holding the staff is pale white with black claws. It appears like only bone and muscles. As he speaks his voice is trangly loud, even if he doesn't yell. Kinda like his voice comes in thelepatic.

"Listen up dear fellowers.!" he says wating a moment to give everyone a moment to look at him.
"My masters are on the way to this world. They will destroy all that keeps things down and free us from our worldly shakels.
Yet they are on there way, but I was send here to offer you something. If you join our forces and prepare this world for the coming of my master, I can guarantee you great rewards. Whatever you desire can be yours, if you join us."

One of the waitresses, June, looks at the purple-robed person.
She listens to what he has to say.

Well...
she doesn't really get what he's intending. But she feels like she has to say something.

She goes up to the dark-robed person. "Hi, would you like to sit down over here?" she asks, gesturing at an open table nearby. "Everyone will be able to come up and speak with you better that way," June says, selling the merits of him sitting down, "and between people speaking with you, I could get you a drink too."