Drink and Games (Ultvann)

[Rheinallt Gandauensis]

- TIMESTAMP -
511 AV Spring Day 8

Rheinallt flashed a bright smile per usual as he stepped through the open doors of the Kelp Bar. The room was a dim and barren place, devoid of any customers for the day. This was a pity for Rhein. The Bar was a place of weak and strong minds, an interesting mix-up for a hypnotist in training. Unfortunately today the weather was rather nippy outside. No-one wanted to drink already strange beverages and water in a place far away from most of the settled homes. Rheinallt however had hoped for a bit of training. Now he was to sit at a table in the corner and absentmindedly sip on a glass of water, only barely hoping that a being with a changeable mind would stroll through the Bar's doors. Rhein snorted. "Like that'll ever happen." He muttered.

Making his way to the bar instead of the table he foresaw earlier, he sat down and ignored the nagging feeling in his head. Rheinallt liked defying his thought out plans. It meant that there was still enough intelligence in him to be spontaneous and flexible. The young man was always up for a challenge.

Pleasantly slipping one Miza over the counter Rhein sat back in his chair and awaited a water. The Waitress told him she needed two more Mizas. A swift glance from Rhein's eyes told her otherwise. The Waitress simply complied and wandered away to fetch his drink. Now Hypnotism was not to be squandered, Rhein mused. Even if it was a unique and fortunate ability to be had, it was remarkably handy in a fight or chase. He needed to reserve his energy for more important things such as growing his powers while actually using them in the ways he meant to use them.

Rheinallt shrugged as he was handed his water. Taking a small sip, he paused and began gulping it down. Defiance was key. Defiance.

[Ultvann Dyrling]

The corners of the Kelp Bar always held a personal appeal to Ultvann, the little, sputtering light that humbly fell about the place avoiding them completely. A corner table at the Kelp Bar told tales of whispered negotiation and callous chuckles, criminal dealings done a thousand times over. This meant the best, if too grandiose a term, seats would always be found there wallowing in the shadows. A regular at the Kelp Bar knew this. Some even knew the particular virtues of the back right table, unseemly in the pockmarks and crimson splashes of one too many games of drunken five finger fillet. Seated just right a man could be lost in the gloom that hung there in a grimy, rather too tangible shroud, shielded by the despondent flickering lamp rather too conveniently hung. Some especially observant patrons would even note the perfect view of the entrance such a seating arrangement afforded.

Hunched over the table, lost in the weaves of his dampen hair, Ultvann exuded the brooding, wretched aura of tavern dwellers Mizahar over. The forlorn and downtrodden became the unnoticeable in the grime of establishments such as the Kelp Bar, the wise becoming so themselves to drift into anonymity. Any regular could see past the facades and spot their friends amongst the numerous, buckled figures that littered the place. Tourists or ‘slum divers’ simply floundered amongst the general, overbearing scent of decay; Ultvann had won a few pots himself on how long it’d take a townie to leave.

Ultvann could always tell when someone didn’t belong and those intense blue eyes focused upon the newcomer, a disturbing glint of curiosity and predatory instinct filling them. He watched as the figure floated, not trudged, through the doorway. He noted the sweeping, prowling look around the room, far too brazen, far too uncertain. He noted the university clothes and felt the familiar faint pang of desire, quickly suppressed by resentment of the haughty pomp carried in his step. He’s an outsider alright. Turning his eyes back to the table Ultvann tried the oozing nonchalance he’d seen less reputable denizens of the Bar manage. He played his fingers absentmindedly over every knife mark, feigning a dangerously obvious fascination with the macabre pattern.

Returning to stare out of the top of his eyes, Ultvann succmbed to a near childish interest in this university man. The feeble attempt at subterfuge almost crumbled as a snigger burbled out of Ultvann’s lips, relishing the choked, souring face sipping what was undoubtedly sea water fresh from it's sewage brimming source. The smirk behind the cloying shadows checked itself, Ultvann aware of a somewhat unhealthy pleasure in the man’s cultural displacement. I’d best go give him some enlightenment. Ultvann didn’t know himself what that meant.

Lumbering to his feet Ultvann walked over towards Rhein, every step a deep, resounding boom that fell flat in the still air of the Bar. Winking twice at the bar maid to signal for two beers, a gesture that always set her glum face muttering foul, unheard curses, Ultvann reached the student’s table and pulled round a chair to take a seat. Facing a bemused stare Ultvann smiled thinly, so thin his lips vanished into themselves, and pointed at the crusted glass holding the newcomers drink.

“If you have any desire to keep hold of your guts lad, I’d pour that filth somewhere other than your mouth,” No amount of straining kept an overtone of mockery from the warning, however genuine it proved itself to be.