10-20-2017, 05:07 PM
“The empire thinks it can order us around, eh. You know what I think? I think that they ought to stay out of our business down here and let us be free!” A small group of men raised mugs high in the air with cheer and downed their alcohol like it was no tomorrow. While Koal, sitting in the corner of the bar, grit his teeth and tried his best to ignore their drunkard activity. Lifting a crystalline glass to his mouth, he felt a plan begin to take shape in his head. Doom was here in the Sixth Tier, presumably under duress from Orcish forces, if the idle chatter of the underworld was something to go by. He could hear a few orcs in the bar, speaking in that rough, garbled tongue of theirs. Very unpleasant to the ears, if he had to make a comment. Like sandpaper across the eardrums. He titled the glass back to his mouth, and saw that he had drained it. Sighing, he stood up and walked back to the bar, a bartender wiping a shot glass down with a less than clean towel. He was an older man, hair silver and white, muddy brown eyes narrowed behind a pair of round spectacles. His face was wrinkled, and he was missing no less than five teeth. He saw Koal’s predicament as he approached the bar, and was already pulling down the bottle of whiskey from the shelf when the Young Demon sat the glass down. Koal laughed, the sound devoid of humor and instead filled with a bitter resentment, a sign of his inebriated condition.
“That’ll be ten Credits, Mister Faust.” Koal had used a fake name, lest there be people lookin for him. Quite weird that he had chosen the name of his former captor to use. Maybe it was a certain elementa that he was after. The sheer fact that that man had ended Koal’s life was now protecting it. He chuckled again, his eyes flicking from red to violet of their own will, and threw the credits on the grubby Bar.
“No problem, Cap’n. Thanks for the booze.”
“Hm.” The old man made a noise of affirmation, going back to wiping down the shot glass.
Koal swept up the crystalline vessel with an emotion akin to glee, and walked back to his secluded alcove in the corner of the bar. Passing by the group he had overheard earlier. As he passed by the revelers, one of them sieved his arm in a wobbly yet firm grip, his cheeks flushed and eyes bloodshot from the alcohol. Koal froze, muscles tensing, as he fought the urge to rip the offending limb from his body as retribution. Letting out a loaded breath, he looked down at the man, who was speaking to him.
“-o you think, kid? Hasn’t this empire forced itself on us enough? Caused enough pain to us and our families?” And that what sent Koal off the edge. His eyes ceased their frenzied switching, settling on a dark red, almost of a color akin to wine, and he hated his fangs in a display of rage. He grabbed the man by the throat and pushed him against the table as his friends started to shout and pound at him, but they could not compare to his strength. The poor victim that the Demon has in its grasp feebly clawed at the sinewy claw that had secured itself to his throat, and deep in his mind, Koal compared his darkening complexion to that of a blueberry.
“You think you know pain, worm? You think you know what it feels like to have everything you are stripped away to leave nothing of what you once were? There are things worse than dead, you impudent swine, and I intend to introduce you to each and every one of-“
BANG
A bullet ripped through his arm, forcing the boy to drop the man, who desperately gasped for air as he slumped to the ground. It didn’t do much damage, only passing through flesh, but it hurt like hell.
The bartender held a polished silver revolver in his hand, the hammer cocked back as he pointed it at the Demon, who cautiously regarded the grizzled old man behind the trigger. They locked eyes for a moment, Brown meeting red, and there was a moment of understanding. Koal relaxed a bit, eyes lightening in their color, but not reverting completely, and the shadows on his arms dissipated into the air around him. Lowering the pistol a by a fraction, the Old Bartender began to speak.
“The only reason I ain’t killed ya is cause ya been me best customer in a long while. Now get yer hide outta my bar ‘fore I change my mind.” His voice was strong, for an elderly man. He Held a lot of authority and a loaded gun. Koal took the offer, growling deep in his heat as he threw the door open and stepping into the neon-tinted streets. He didn’t know where he would go. He didn’t know where Doom was, if he was still alive. Numerous factions fought for power down here, so taking a location by force was out of the question. He was running out of options fast, and that was bad. The sewers were an option, but not one that Koal was going to accept. He would die before he bent his pride far enough to sleep in shit-water. He almost gagged at the thought.
As his thoughts slowed as his frustration gave way to curiosity, Koal began to observe his surroundings. The street was uncharacteristically empty, a few cars lining the sides of the streets. All of them were vacant. It was almost as if the entire area was bracing for something... or perhaps, someone. Living shadow covered his arms once more, and his eyes darkened as he took cover behind a car, as he prepared himself mentally for what was to come.
“Let it come then. Been too long since I’ve had a proper fight.”
“That’ll be ten Credits, Mister Faust.” Koal had used a fake name, lest there be people lookin for him. Quite weird that he had chosen the name of his former captor to use. Maybe it was a certain elementa that he was after. The sheer fact that that man had ended Koal’s life was now protecting it. He chuckled again, his eyes flicking from red to violet of their own will, and threw the credits on the grubby Bar.
“No problem, Cap’n. Thanks for the booze.”
“Hm.” The old man made a noise of affirmation, going back to wiping down the shot glass.
Koal swept up the crystalline vessel with an emotion akin to glee, and walked back to his secluded alcove in the corner of the bar. Passing by the group he had overheard earlier. As he passed by the revelers, one of them sieved his arm in a wobbly yet firm grip, his cheeks flushed and eyes bloodshot from the alcohol. Koal froze, muscles tensing, as he fought the urge to rip the offending limb from his body as retribution. Letting out a loaded breath, he looked down at the man, who was speaking to him.
“-o you think, kid? Hasn’t this empire forced itself on us enough? Caused enough pain to us and our families?” And that what sent Koal off the edge. His eyes ceased their frenzied switching, settling on a dark red, almost of a color akin to wine, and he hated his fangs in a display of rage. He grabbed the man by the throat and pushed him against the table as his friends started to shout and pound at him, but they could not compare to his strength. The poor victim that the Demon has in its grasp feebly clawed at the sinewy claw that had secured itself to his throat, and deep in his mind, Koal compared his darkening complexion to that of a blueberry.
“You think you know pain, worm? You think you know what it feels like to have everything you are stripped away to leave nothing of what you once were? There are things worse than dead, you impudent swine, and I intend to introduce you to each and every one of-“
BANG
A bullet ripped through his arm, forcing the boy to drop the man, who desperately gasped for air as he slumped to the ground. It didn’t do much damage, only passing through flesh, but it hurt like hell.
The bartender held a polished silver revolver in his hand, the hammer cocked back as he pointed it at the Demon, who cautiously regarded the grizzled old man behind the trigger. They locked eyes for a moment, Brown meeting red, and there was a moment of understanding. Koal relaxed a bit, eyes lightening in their color, but not reverting completely, and the shadows on his arms dissipated into the air around him. Lowering the pistol a by a fraction, the Old Bartender began to speak.
“The only reason I ain’t killed ya is cause ya been me best customer in a long while. Now get yer hide outta my bar ‘fore I change my mind.” His voice was strong, for an elderly man. He Held a lot of authority and a loaded gun. Koal took the offer, growling deep in his heat as he threw the door open and stepping into the neon-tinted streets. He didn’t know where he would go. He didn’t know where Doom was, if he was still alive. Numerous factions fought for power down here, so taking a location by force was out of the question. He was running out of options fast, and that was bad. The sewers were an option, but not one that Koal was going to accept. He would die before he bent his pride far enough to sleep in shit-water. He almost gagged at the thought.
As his thoughts slowed as his frustration gave way to curiosity, Koal began to observe his surroundings. The street was uncharacteristically empty, a few cars lining the sides of the streets. All of them were vacant. It was almost as if the entire area was bracing for something... or perhaps, someone. Living shadow covered his arms once more, and his eyes darkened as he took cover behind a car, as he prepared himself mentally for what was to come.
“Let it come then. Been too long since I’ve had a proper fight.”
"...If the soul is left in darkness sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but he who causes the darkness.”
-Victor Hugo Les Miserables
-Victor Hugo Les Miserables