[Invite] Honor Among Thieves? Pffft!

[Ezrihel]

She tittered a few times, smiling and listening to Demetri talk to her as she leaned her body weight on him ever-so-slightly, just enough to affirm her presence to him if he managed to forget that she had her right arm intertwined with his left. She looked at him with a captivation, the kind of look that every man wants to be gazed upon with. It bespoke utter interest in everything that he said as he waved his right arm about, making various gestures with his free hand as he too leaned against her, returning her affections.

He told her that, while having a hideout in the dense forests of Camelot would allow for them to obtain great levels of secrecy and cover from prying eyes, it would also greatly lengthen the time it took for various business interactions, making it harder for them to conduct deals as the contacts would have to struggle through much foliage in order to reach them. It would also make running information and scouting around and too and from this verse rather tedious as well. He assured her that as long as they stayed in a small enough town they would be fairly, or rather, he used the word 'relatively', safe in the sense of being able to stay hidden but keep business rolling into them. With conviction, he stated that he thought they should purchase a tavern.

“Hmm… a tavern? And what purpose will it serve?” She continued, coyly questioning him. She knew full well what his answer would be already, but still listened intently as he explained that it would be a disguise of sorts, allowing them to be hidden in plain sight and serve the common folk and guards as a front for business, and yet beneath this seemingly glowing hospitality there would be an underlying network of thieves resting, nesting under the noses of everyone within the town. Of course, the ruse would be so detailed and well-thought-out that the townsfolk wouldn't even consider the fact that there was a scheme going on beneath their own eyelids. She watched his movements closely, seeing him put his hand out in front of him, as if he were imagining the very picture of his base, of his growing guild. He pulled his hand in, balling it up into a tight fist as he finished his statement, the sound of leather being force against itself creaking softly into her ear.

“And what of newcomers? How will we build this army of thieves?” She coos out her next innocent question. She wanted to make certain that he really had these things all planned out before rushing head long into it all. Not that she really cared all too much about his fate, she just wanted to know if she should be prepared to watch it all go crumbling into ruin before too long. Such it was with people who enjoyed rushing into ill thought out and poorly planned ideas. They always liked to rush in with a sense of grandeur, throwing their arms up and expecting it all to just come to them.

Things only come to certain people like that, or rather, she was referring to herself when she thought that. She was far old enough that her plans could easily span millennium upon millennium with the amount of time she spent forging connections, setting things up, planning and plotting everything out and finally setting things into motion in a way that would keep her out of the blast radius if someone grew curious as too who was behind it all.

He responded to her by stating that it took a thief to know a thief. He knew without a doubt that they would find others simply by catching them in the act, discovering their skills to put it bluntly. He stated that those who refused their ever so gracious offer to join the guild of thieves would be warned once and once only; if they were caught again, the perpetrators would find themselves mysteriously in a dungeon beneath the Tavern's old wooden floors. The amazing benefit of becoming a prisoner would be the privilege of never being able to see the light of day again from that point on wards, or until they saw it fit to turn the offender loose.

Something about that punishment made her remember a long period of time from her past life, but she pushed that thought away, not in the mood to casually think back upon her life time of solitary confinement. She would continue to hear him state that having to throw such people into a dungeon was such a waste of talent and potential, but he stopped to reassure her that the world was indeed unforgiving as much as he wanted to keep his guild as civil as possible. He took the chance to remind her that this was a guild made for thieves, not executioners.

She felt like he said that simply out of both a reminder to her, as he had seen her past and knew of how she could act, and a statement to be a statement on how he wished for things to be run. These statements meant little to nothing to her. She was once a Goddess, and she would soon ascend to hold that position once more. The wants, needs and preferences of a mere mortal young-ling man meant little to dust to her. If she so deemed it necessary to end the life of someone, whether they were a threat or not, then she would end that target regardless of this young man's thoughts or preferences on there life. Maybe it was just her choosing to simply be a rebellious little asshole, or maybe it was from some greater understanding of how everything worked, or maybe it was just her being a judgmental, arrogant rebellious little asshole.

Yeah, it was just her being an arrogant rebellious bitch that lead her to those thoughts of not following his small request.

Soon though, they came into town, walking along the crowded mid-day streets and weaving through the clumps of people going about what must have amounted to their daily business around town. This little town looked as though it had pretty good economical differentiation, good enough to even house a few noble families at the least. With a small breath in, she relished in the feeling of feeling relatively home when one compared the completely blank canvas of the Nexus to the home of her most recent past life.

The people here walked about in a fashion not unlike her home universe, garbed in clothes which dated in a mix of time periods from long before this body's creation to what would be fairly a few generations after her departure. She liked that both her and Demetri now both fit in perfectly among the thralling organism that was the crowd, the population, the life blood of this new town.

Speaking of new, they would have to go around and give inquiry as to the whereabouts of this township, if there was a place to purchase, who knew what and who was whom around these parts, and last but not least, what the name of this place so happened to be.

A breeze blew through the town, bringing with it the smell of freshly cooked food.

While she was a god-being in all rights, and hardly ever really needed to eat at the frequency of humans, she still loved the taste of food to no known end. She loved to experience the display that many chefs went through hell to organize and create, to see the sight of food, to smell its amazingly delightful aromas, to taste how its ingredients coalesced into one perfect dish, and to feel the texture of the food as she chewed it in contentment.

She, to put it all simply, loved the experience that food offered her. It was just one of the finer things in life that allowed her to enjoy the small things she came across. Just as she was about to ask Demetri if they could venture to find out where that smell was coming from, his AI spoke up suddenly enough for him stop in his tracks. It must have surprised him greatly, as he almost started at the sound of his AI's voice, causing her to also stop moving in order to listen to the machine's words.

"The name of this town is called Ozryn, with a few other towns north and further west, the city of Anchorbourne to the east, there are a few rivers nearby."

Demetri spoke up, asking her how she knew this information. Her response would have been humorous if Ezzy was not from the early eighteen hundreds and the internet of humans not something almost two hundred years ahead of her time, otherwise she would have been fairly amused by the comment of "omnimaps" and "omnizillow", but instead they fall flat for her, flying over her head like clouds on a windy day. She heard the AI state something about a Dataverse, this information interested her greatly; she then went on to state the specifications of a tavern she had location which was for sale.

Two stories tall and a cellar included. Hopefully the cellar would be stocked with fine wine and other various alcohols. Ezzy wouldn't get drunk like a human, no, alcohol had a different effect on her when it reached a certain potency, anything below that thresh hold did nothing, and she knew most humans didn't brew anything much stronger than Absinthe, a one hundred and seventy nine proof alcoholic beverage made from the flowers and leaves of a medical plant named Artemisia Absinthium. She earnestly doubted that she would get drunk off of whatever was in the cellar of this tavern they would acquire, but it did make her rather curious.

As they walked through Ozryn, she noticed Demetri's left arm slip from her grasp and found itself pulled snugly at her corset-narrowed waist and holding her close to him once more. Of course, she didn't mind it. She liked the feeling of being protected, even if it meant next to nothing in terms of practicality.

Soon they found the tavern that IRIS had identified, and with his arm around her waist, they made there way into the door.

Well, this place looked rather rundown and somewhat dumpy. It seemed like a seedy place, making her wonder why, exactly, it was that the owner was putting up for sale. The inside of the tavern was crowded and stuffy feeling, very few windows letting in natural light, instead the tavern opted to use candle-lit chandeliers, the candle smoke wafting heavily in the rafters of the building, allowing the dim light to catch and become tangled in this fog, creating an oppressive smog that seemed to push down on the unlucky inhabitants with the weight of the entire world.

Everything smelled of tobacco, candle wax and alcohol. Low grade, watered down alcohol, and mildewing wood rot. This entire place needed so much work from what she could see and what wasn't being smothered and sat on by overly-fat asses slopping at their weak drinks and boasting about the amount of liqueur they could each hold. They seemed a dumb lot that would never be quiet as useful as one would think, all they cared about was that the wrenches and booze keep flowing to them in order to keep them sedated, always sedated.

The human condition revolted her at its lowest, and interested her at its height. In this case, it was revolting. She was surrounded by slurred speech and foggy sights oppressing her every thought, her every move, and she remembered why she had brought sin upon the world in the first place.

They deserved to suffer for wrong doings. She wanted to test them all and punish the wicked.

She could feel her sanity slipping, slipping, slipping away from her grasp as the seconds dragged on. Demetri inquired for the owner, watching as a stocky and fat middle aged looking dwarf waddled out of the back to greet them. His nose was hooked and rested low on his round face, beady grey eyes set deep into his eye sockets, squinting past fat cheeks, his earlobes dangled, long and low, unattached from the side of his face. His head was bald, glistening with sweat which he wiped at angrily, but his lack of head hair was far beyond made up for by the huge russet beard that seemed to explode out from his soft jawline, an equally huge mustache braided to either side in order to make shoveling food less of a disgusting hassle for the obese little creature.

Ezzy could tell that the dwarf was not at all pleased at being interrupted in the middle of whatever his pudgy hands could have been possibly doing in the moments prior. Most likely clutching at a coin purse and meticulously counting his gold pieces, if she had any knowledge on creatures like this.

“Ye? And what coin ‘ave ye brought? Wee copper coins, eh? I hope ye didn't spend it all on yer wench there.”

Sure, yeah, the dwarf might have not called her wench, he could have called her anything else, but she could feel herself almost mentally melting in this environment. She heard wench, but before she could get over how audacious the bearded midget was, Deme had moved, his left arm never leaving her waist, as a bladed chain descended into his hand. In a quick motion, the chain had closed the gap between the two parties and was now securing itself around the chunky fuck's neck. He reeled the chain in, almost dragging the dwarf across the rotting floor of the tavern.

She watched Demetri lean down, almost getting nose to nose with this little man, “If you so wish, perhaps I may knock each and every one of your teeth out and in each one’s place supply you with a golden one? Sounds like a deal both of us can certainly agree to, you receive your worth and I am allowed to legally shove your wretched face into the very floor I am buying from you.”

With in a heart beat, Ezrihel felt excitement flood her body at the situation. It almost grounded her, almost brought her all the way back down to the earth, or rather the floor she was standing on. She watched intently, like a cat stalking its prey, mere seconds away from making that deciding pounce that would end the prey item's short known existence.

Her lips parted ever so slightly, her body almost quivering with the possibilities of the situation. She wanted to see bloodshed, she wanted to watch Demetri be a man and subdue the retched little creature, dominate over the greedy ball of lard. Her tongue darts out quickly to moisten her suddenly dry feeling lips. She can taste the fear in the air as everything goes silent. Her vision as fixated on Demetri, curious, absolutely burning to watch what he would do next.

In a soft, almost silent whisper, she speaks seven extremely excited words. "You've got to show it its place."

She's obviously refering to to dwarf in her comment. Dehumanizing him, making him into an "it", making him less than and telling a man to domineer over him and put it in it's "place". With her words, she's almost beckoning, nearly begging and at the same time almost commanding that this dwarf be marginalized in order to make a point. She was enciting a sort of pattern of violence.

A second goes by, and the dwarf has realized his mistake, he avoids Deme's pinning gaze and coughs, unable to move due to the chains. “10,000 gold pieces an’ tha place is yers.”

The thief takes his arm from around her and reaches down to his belt, pulling up a coin purse with the correct amount of coins in it before shoving it harshly into the greedy bastard's chest, letting go and allowing the little shit to quickly waddle out of the tavern, saying something of another about a deed in the cellar.

She was sorely disappointed, but still had loved that Demetri had done that. In a soft and flirting voice, she addresses him. "I love it when such gentle men like yourself get so aggressive and protective. It makes me feel so safe, like I can trust you to keep me from reasonable harm. It's rather hard to earn that respect from me."

She watches him turn and speak to the whole of the audience in the building, and while Deme was still distracted addressing the lot, she felt a hand grab her at her ass.

DRUNKEN BASTARD.

Inhumanely fast, she withdrew her sword with her right hand, letting go of Demetri. The humming sound of her weapon would be familiar to her in the air. It cuts that thick air with no effort, catching the man at the wrist and carrying through, slicing bone apart with ease.

"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH A GODDESS YOU WORTHLESS BEETLE." She screams as the man withdraws and begins to panic, trying to grab his hand off the floor. The blood is already pouring out, gushing like a corrupted version of the fountain at the center of the Nexus. The hum of her sword is so soft on the air, barely able to be heard amongst the bar-goers, it's like a song to her, a song of death and she is ready to impale this simpleton for his mistake.

She turns her sword so that the blade points to the floor, and rests the blunt edge against the underside of the grimy man's wobbling second chin. With frigid eyes, she stares at the man and reaches into his skull, forcing her way past non-existent defenses, she looks through all of his memories in the blink of an eye and savors the pain he feels from her sword before speaking into him.

Never again.

She lets him pick up his severed hand and run out of the bar, not even bothering to grab the free mug of mead offered to him by Demetri.

SNAP

Like a taunt cord busting from built up pressure, the world fell away from her and reassembled.

She hadn't moved, her sword wasn't drawn, and no one had even touched her. She stood staunch, perfectly still even though everyone had already left the building except for Demetri and herself. Even the barkeep and wenches were gone.

And now Deme stood in front of her, addressing her. It's all muffled for a brief moment before his voice clears up all the way. "What shall we start with?" He asks her.

Blinking a few times, she shakes her head softly and decides to answer him.

"Oh forgive me, I got lost in thinking of what all we must do in order to tidy this place up." She states before answering his question in full.

"Well, honestly, this place is in need of some serious remodeling. The smell of the mildew and rot in here is thicker than a whore's perfume. Of course..." She lets her sentence trail off for a moment as she walks up to him, that nearly erotic swish of her hips moving to compensate for her high-heeled shoes; certainly it was now even more noticeable now that he had a chance to look at her head on. She walks a circle around him, a slender hand brushing over his right shoulder and down his arm to keep his attention.

"A strong young man like you wouldn't know too much about that, would you now?" Her tone was light, playful and teasing.

"But we're inside now, so I would be most grateful to see the full face of my captivating savior." She would wait a second, to see if he would take his hood down and reveal his entire face, messy hair included, to her.

When he did, she would titter softly, smiling before saying, "You're so young and so handsome, but still older than me." Of course, she was speaking of her physical body, not her mental age. She knew that she was far far older than most could ever appreciate.

"I think that we should start with replacing the furniture in here, or remodeling it, whatever it is that must be done with the Omnilium in this universe in order to fix these decrepit wooden fixtures!"

With grace and style ageless, she kneels on the floor and begins to process a table, having to concentrate heavily on it at first before getting the hang of it and being open for conversation once more. She processes several tables, replacing them with posh looking finely finished red oak tables. She processes the seats for each of these tables as well, even going as far as to add slight cushion to the seat of the chairs to boot.

She would make this place fitting for a base which she would be staying at, regardless if Demetri approved of it or not, she was going to make this place look well kempt and higher class than whatever the hell dreg it catered to previously.

"What should the Tavern be named now that we own it?"

[Demetri Malius]

Demetri could not help but give a grin at the woman as he pushed his nappy hair aside, almost immediately responding to her remark. 

"Lass, I may not be one to flounder about with women like a rich drunkard but I do know my way around the buckles," he chimes, before continuing on. "And alas you cannot be an informant without having discovered some dirt on a few measly harlots." He chuckles at the end of his boast as they then go about to repair the inn. It was true, Omnilium was still a mysterious thing, and as Ezzy begins to reform a few tables Demetri uses his senses to gather a feel of the place. 

After a few moments, the thief closes his eyes and puts his hands on the bar counter, pouring out omnilium as he allows, using large amounts of his own reserves a the multicolored drops flow out from his hands and spread across the rotted wood and spreading as if spilled water, enveloping the area and working its way outwards. Demetri is calm and still as he does this, keeping his palms pressed on the wood. His bushy brows stay slightly furrowed as his hair seems to give to some nonexistent light breeze,his lips pursed in concentration as he focused on his task. 

It was a slow but steady change as the brightly colored substance expanded throughout the tavern. Ezrihel's aide in the tables and other miscellaneous items throughout the main room, each square inch being returned past its formal glory, becoming something new. Everything matches that of which Ezzy had already started, seeming elegant and extravagant as Demetri spent well over a few hours fixing each crevasse and chip.


Once he finishes he takes in a deep breath, almost feeling as if he was not breathing that entire time, and to be honest, he wasn't sure of he was. The whole building was remodeled, and the cellar was prepared with a storage for the guild as well as the bar, in addition for preparations later, when they had time to expand. 

Ezzy then turned to him and spoke, questioning him on the name." he turns his gaze to the etching above the bar in extravagant letters.

Welcome to the Sly Courtesan

Bed and Drinks

Demetri gives a smirk. "It seems to convey a variety of messages, doesn't it, the simple combination of those two words, IRIS helped come up with the idea behind it, and it has a ring to it. What do you think o it? " he listened s for her answer before bringing something to her attention. It was about the rumors he had managed to catch on his way here. 

"Ezrihel, I believe that there is a possibility of a mysterious item that has come in close contact with those closer to the main city. I vote that we investigate and try to secure any information that we can, as well as seek out those that can help with the guild. By the looks of the bartender, he can keep the place quite tidy, and we can head out as soon as tomorrow. What do you say to that?" The thief stood with a smile, confident now that his plans and goals were finally being achieved, and that this was a start to a great new part of his life. He had experienced the worst of war and had seen the scariest of odds, so nothing could surprise him now.

 Between his trimmed 'stache and well-kept goatee, his mischievous grin stretch across his cheek, a flash of white teeth complimented by piercing grey eyes. his sharp nose and jawline showed a quick wit and masked a devious mind behind it, ready to take the entire world from the unseen background. His long healed scars showed that he would endure much in order to get to where he needed to be and do what he needed to do in order to accomplish his goals,  nothing would stop him. IRIS shifted on him, allowing his face to be seen and simply being an extra layer of circuitry under his armor. He could feel his strength grow, even as he had poured some of his reserves into the tavern, and he knew that soon he would be one to be feared, not by his strength, but by his ability and cunning.