05-31-2017, 01:51 AM
"Madam." Chakravartin said, spooking the owner of the Crescent Moon Alehouse, making her jump, and nearly drop the menus she had been gathering in the kitchen.
"Oh, where did your friends go?" the woman asked, "What are you doing in the kitchen? I... did something scare them off?"
"I'm not sure." Chakravartin said simply, casting his eyes around the bar. Lysandra was taking a better look at the stain itself, before walking through the building, searching for the owner herself, satisfied she was out of earshot, Chakravartin fixed an emotionless glare on the old woman, reaching out and pushing her down with one hand, easily overpowering the Secondary.
"Wh-What are you doing?!"
"Silence." he commanded, "I wouldn't get too mad with me, madam. After all, I'm not the one with barrels full of human blood."
She paled, "You... don't know what you're talking about. It's just wine."
"Something clawed its way out of that barrel you 'clumsily' knocked over, Madam. I came here with a monk, he can feel the malice in the air."
"I... I promise... I don't know why! The place has always been a little weird- from the very beginning. It wasn't anything I've done! I don't know why they're acting like this!"
"They?" Chakravartin asked coldly.
"Them." she said, quietly, and Chakravartin, for a moment, felt a brief fury as he realized she wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid of something behind him.
He released the cohesion of his form, falling as a heavy liquid mass and splashing against the woman and the floor. A moment later, a wooden beam snapped, burying itself in the wall behind where he had been standing. He retook his usual form, shaking off the momentary dizziness and tiredness, before lifting the woman up off the ground, pushing her ahead of him. "So... you said that they had always been here?" he glanced behind him, but there was nothing there. But the same claw marks from the barrel marred the wooden beam as well.
"Yes, yes, they have been. From the very beginning. But they were never this bad!"
"Fine. Fine." he said, nudging her along, keeping an ear out for them. Whatever 'them' was. He would have to look into the history of this place.
"Oh, where did your friends go?" the woman asked, "What are you doing in the kitchen? I... did something scare them off?"
"I'm not sure." Chakravartin said simply, casting his eyes around the bar. Lysandra was taking a better look at the stain itself, before walking through the building, searching for the owner herself, satisfied she was out of earshot, Chakravartin fixed an emotionless glare on the old woman, reaching out and pushing her down with one hand, easily overpowering the Secondary.
"Wh-What are you doing?!"
"Silence." he commanded, "I wouldn't get too mad with me, madam. After all, I'm not the one with barrels full of human blood."
She paled, "You... don't know what you're talking about. It's just wine."
"Something clawed its way out of that barrel you 'clumsily' knocked over, Madam. I came here with a monk, he can feel the malice in the air."
"I... I promise... I don't know why! The place has always been a little weird- from the very beginning. It wasn't anything I've done! I don't know why they're acting like this!"
"They?" Chakravartin asked coldly.
"Them." she said, quietly, and Chakravartin, for a moment, felt a brief fury as he realized she wasn't afraid of him. She was afraid of something behind him.
He released the cohesion of his form, falling as a heavy liquid mass and splashing against the woman and the floor. A moment later, a wooden beam snapped, burying itself in the wall behind where he had been standing. He retook his usual form, shaking off the momentary dizziness and tiredness, before lifting the woman up off the ground, pushing her ahead of him. "So... you said that they had always been here?" he glanced behind him, but there was nothing there. But the same claw marks from the barrel marred the wooden beam as well.
"Yes, yes, they have been. From the very beginning. But they were never this bad!"
"Fine. Fine." he said, nudging her along, keeping an ear out for them. Whatever 'them' was. He would have to look into the history of this place.
Quote:376 words.
2010/5000 words overall. (miscounted # of words in first post, this should be accurate though)
-Speak with owner of the Crescent Moon alehouse, accomplished.
![[Image: Green+Lantern+%2321+Larfleeze.jpg]](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4knYjWR4Ftg/UbffBSdAvAI/AAAAAAAACoU/SGQqiRnByVA/s1600/Green+Lantern+%2321+Larfleeze.jpg)