Private I'll Get Your Tab Started

[Dash Vikal]

The bar was always open. Even at times when it shouldn't be. And for Dash it was a lifeline. The man was not much of a drinker, but he could mix them as though it had always been his livelihood. His skills of a steady hand and attention to detail helped to shape the quiet reputation that he shared amongst his coworkers.

Yet his finest skillset was in listening. In some ways that was a big part of his previous occupation. Now it only saved him from having to talk much. Speaking was at times a painful endevor. Yet for his own easement he always had a glass of iced water on hand for when needed.

Dash's eyes were drawn up from the countertop that he was wiping clean when the door to the bar opened and a new customer walked in.

Tags: Lady Izanami Diarch Reign

 

[Lady Izanami]

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Disobey - by ODDKO
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Tag: Dash Vikal ... Diarch Reign


Lady Izanami crossed the threshold of the bar as though passing through a veil, the door sighing shut behind her like a reluctant witness. Incense smoke clung low to the ceiling, tangled with the sharper bite of alcohol and sweat, and lights trembled in glass sconces, casting shadows across the walls. Her gaze moved slowly, deliberately, taking measure of the patrons; cloaked mystics murmuring hushed tones over sigils scratched into tabletops, mercenaries with gold rings on their fingers and old blood in their eyes, pompous dressed aristocrats slumming for secrets, and creatures whose true shapes pressed uncomfortably against borrowed skins.

The bar throbbed with low conversation and hidden intent, a congregation of hungers pretending to be leisure.

She drifted deeper inside, heels whispering against the floor, her presence subtly bending the air around her. Tables were full, every seat claimed by whispered deals, quiet threats, and laughter that sounded a touch too sharp to be genuine. She paused, letting the room feel her before she acknowledged it, sensing the currents of attention shift in her wake. Finding no empty refuge among the tables, she turned instead toward the bar, where polished wood gleamed like dark water under the lantern light.

Lady Izanami took a seat at the bar with unhurried grace, folding herself into the space as if it had been waiting for her all along. She regarded the bartender, a handsome man with practiced hands and an easy smile that didn't quite reach his eyes; and allowed a faint, knowing curve to touch her lips.

Tilting her head just enough to catch the light, she spoke in a voice smooth as a whispered invocation. "Tell me," she said softly, eyes never leaving his, "what's the house special on drinks tonight?"