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Post by Deleted on Aug 9, 2017 20:44:51 GMT
If Gabriel was at all clueless about why anyone would enjoy arena fights, Roy didn’t much blame him. Maybe a century or two ago, he would have felt the same way personally. Either way though, he was quite happy to talk about it since it was a daily activity for him. He took another good take of his drink and wiped his mouth with his arm before answering. “Yeah, there are different elements. Most arenas are strictly about show and entertainment, but this one is…different. Black Rock has two different brackets, one ranked and one not. Hadjara is in the ranked matches, obviously, since she’s at the top. Those are all about the crowd’s reaction and whose the strongest. They get all the really good booze next door.” He smiled at the jest, having no idea personally what it looked like in the other, guarded building.
“The unranked matches are…more like a job. You just go there and they pitch you against someone, or something, random. You don’t get to ever see your opponent’s face or look, or even speak to them on accident before the match. Once your match is over and you win, you’re still on the same level as everyone else. No brackets or anything. Then they pay you right after. It’s completely voluntary whereas the ranked matches are a mix of slaves and volunteers.” Roy wasn’t sure why they did what they did, but it seemed to work well for the crowds and staffing. It was an interesting set up, and was part of what gave some appeal to Roy. “The appeal to me is…the chaos of it, I suppose. The constant, everyday chance that I might fight against someone and lose. The adrenaline rush that comes with that chance. Of course, it is also one of the best ways to expose myself to different fighting techniques. Fighting, say, a big wild cat is much different than fighting that same cat that’s a shifter. Of course the money is nice too. Gives me just enough to eat and drink for the day with a little extra to save.” Roy practically lived on the streets, but it was no skin off his back. Life was good, and maybe someday he’d use Comet to travel around Litharia some, but for the moment he was content. His grin widened as he spoke though, and finished his third drink. “They are most defiantly all fights to the death, which is also I love them. No staged bullshit or anything like that.”
In the end, Roy was still a daemon. He had that aggression and predatory instincts just as most daemons. Arguably he was even bloodthirsty, though he’d never admit it openly. Part of being a daemon meant he had near perfect control of his emotions (well, at least when sober).
Quite enjoying himself, there was just the slightest buzz that the golem was beginning to feel as his next drink was pushed towards him. He knew his limits, so he was careful to not go overboard for the moment. Meeting Gabriel again after centuries was not an opportunity he wanted to lose. Back when they’d first met, Roy admired him in the short time that Roy got his ass kicked.
Glad that the conversation was not entirely one sided, he listened carefully as Gabriel talked about his magic and fighting abilities. There was such a wide variety with daemons alone and what they could fight with, much less every other species in Litharia, thus why Roy left the Dream Land to begin with.
“You seem to have quite a spectrum, though. Fire and water?” Most just had one element at their disposal, so Gabriel made him curious. If he had no desire to speak about it, Roy didn’t mind. But after the display in the square, the golem was willing to bet he was willing to talk about how strong his magic was.
Roy chuckled at the question. “Was the red-clay like skin a give away? Yeah, I’m a full battle golem. Which works well with my fascination with combat.” Roy was not as brawny as many of the combatants in the arenas. He focused primarily on agility and flexibility to give him an advantage.
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Post by Gabriel on Aug 19, 2017 3:15:46 GMT
Gabriel glanced over at the doorway Roy indicated, which apparently led to some more exclusive area for ranked fighters. He wondered if Hadjara had ever been there and made a note to ask her next time he saw her. And, even as he was wondering this, he was nodding in understanding. Gladiator fighting as a way to make a living...that made sense. If that happened to be in your skill set then Gabriel could think of worse jobs, even with the risks. Many things in life were risky, after all, and people would do all sorts for coin. The other things Roy described were all familiar and easy to understand concepts too - chaos, risk, thrill-seeking, adrenaline, honing skills. Hell, if Gabriel didn't have plenty else in his life to meet those exact needs, he might have been drawn to the gladiator rings himself.
He shook his head, though, at Roy's next question for him.
"Not really, though I see why you'd think that. The fire magic is mine, I'm half Fire Elemental. But the water ability I used in that fight is actually bardic magic that allows me to borrow ancient traces of magic left by the Gods in the form of words written throughout this world. It happens that that word is related to water, but I have no innate mastery of the element." And, in fact, remained vulnerable to it through the Elemental's weakness to their opposing elemental force, though fortunately that didn't stop him from being able to wield the power from that word. It was a complicated magic which was hard to describe to others, but he hoped his explanation made sense.
"I can see why you've gone into this business. Feels like it would be fun, for the right person. Battle magic must help?"
Gabriel finished his second drink and glanced around again, back towards the door Roy had indicated earlier. It was closed and guarded by a single man, but neither of those things were much of an impediment for a powerful bardic Daemon. Turning back to Roy with a grin definitely bordering on mischievous, Gabriel gestured at the mystery door behind which some exclusive club apparently resided.
"You know, if you wanted to see what the ranked warriors get access to that's so special, I can get us in without anybody realising we shouldn't be over there. If you were interested, of course." He wouldn't be upset if Roy declined - maybe the other Daemon had plans to work his way through the system and earn his way through that door one day. But, in case Roy was as curious as he was, he figured the offer couldn't hurt.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2017 4:14:47 GMT
Roy wasn’t sure whether he fully understood the explanation that Gabriel was giving him about the magic he used, but he grasped the general concept. Fire was his main element, while the water thing had been learned elsewhere. Regardless of its origin, it had been quite impressive. Especially since he didn’t have anything of the sort to work with. “Neat. It defiantly made a statement to your audience since I assume that’s part of what goes into being the Daemon Lord? Showing everyone you’re a badass and shouldn’t be messed with?” Even for daemons, politics was a bit more complicated than it could initially seem.
Grinning and now happily buzzed, Roy slowed his drinking tremendously as his intention was not to black out and get sick. Talking about fighting, any form of it, was his passion and he was glad to delve deeper into the topic. “I won’t pretend it’s all sunshine and flowers. Came close to dying from blood loss a few times since I can’t feel the pain. But yes, it is a lot of fun. Been thinking of taking a short break though, maybe going out and seeing Litharia more. Comet makes a great travel option.” The wyvern was faster than horses and more intimidating. She could even fly with Roy on her back, but only for a short while. “The battle magic helps a lot, yeah. I don’t have the right body type to be good with raw physical power. There’ll always be someone to outmatch me in that, so my magic makes up for it. Though they have less power behind them, I can get more hits in with my weapon or claws or whichever with flexibility and agility.” Roy was still built for his lean body type though, and did constant practice with brute force. It would never be his sole focus or what got him to win a fight, though.
When the daemon lord had looked over to the guarded door, then back to Roy with a grin, he had a feeling what Gabriel was going to ask him. Well, he at least knew it involved breaking the rules some. He in turn grinned. Rules were meant to be broken. “Hell yeah I am. Might swipe me one of their better tier drinks while we’re at it.” Maybe even get into a good fight, Roy also thought. He had no intention of killing anyone unless necessary, especially with ranked competitors, but bar fights were common enough and generally not lethal.
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Post by Gabriel on Aug 26, 2017 2:24:10 GMT
Gabriel nodded, impressed and gratified that Roy seemed to get it. The position of Daemon Lord was a unique one - what went into being the Daemon Lord depended heavily on the personality of the Daemon holding the title at any given time, but some things were carved into stone. Weakness and power were fundamental concepts that he paid homage to every single day. Appear powerful, and survive. Appear weak and, even if truly powerful, risk death. Sometimes there was power simply in what people thought. Gabriel knew that better than most.
"Exactly. I must accept every challenge, but no matter how strong you are - how strong anyone is - every challenge holds a level of risk. I love that, but it's also dangerous to me. Ideally, I want to engage in just enough challenges to demonstrate my power's growth over time, without having to undertake so many that the risk of making a mistake is too high. It's a delicate balance." The use of Vatn, the word for water, had been useful because his opponent was an Earth Elemental. It had also been very calculated though. He was well known for his use of fire and bardic magic, so to wield power over water too was a statement of breadth of magic unusual in even very old, very powerful creatures. Just as Roy had noted.
"You've spent most of your time in Spirit, then?" Gabriel gathered that Roy's life was a simple, but very focused one. Lots of fighting. Lots of fun.
"Travelling is worthwhile. Come to the Tunnels sometime, I'll show you the place from the Daemon Lord's perspective." Daemons varied in how much time they spent at the Tunnels that had crept outwards from the magic of the portal. Roy would have been, of course, because he'd crossed the portal from the Dream Land, but Gabriel had no idea if he spent much time there now. He didn't recall seeing him around. Regardless, though, few knew those Tunnels the way Gabriel knew them. They'd been the seat of his power for decades.
"Brilliant. Follow my lead." There was a mischievous glint to Gabriel's eye as he finished his drink and stood, but only for a second. His demeanour changed gradually, subtly, but by the time he crossed the room to greet the man standing by the door - bouncer, guard, whatever he called himself - Gabriel seemed to be a taller, more imposing presence than ever. He always caught the eye; the silver sheen of his skin, the unnatural bright colour of his eyes - but there was something less obvious that happened too. It was an effortless self-confidence of the kind that only came with true power, a way to carry oneself, to walk, to interact with others, and the bouncer straightened his back and lowered his eyes instinctively as Gabriel approached. The Daemon Lord's voice, when he spoke, was casual though. Relaxed, jovial.
"Good evening. My friend and I received our rankings last night. Do you mind?"
The lie rolled off his tongue easily, smoothly. So easily that it sounded like the truth. The bouncer didn't even hesitate, despite whatever the usual method for establishing who was a ranked warrior might have been. Despite the implausibility of this story. He swung the door open, deferential and polite. Gabriel ushered Roy through.
"Alright. You've probably at least heard about this side, right? Lead the way."
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Post by Deleted on Aug 26, 2017 5:28:03 GMT
“Ya know, you sound like a form of gladiator yourself. Sure, you’re not bound to the arena like most of us, but you still have the daily danger of ‘Today might be the day I die by someone else’s hand’ deal. Plus you just said you love that element of risk, which is something I think many of us combatants have as well.” Maybe they weren’t that different in that regards. Rather, they were very similar with that form of outlook. Roy gave a toothy grin, his fangs just slightly obvious by their slight point. “I mean, that’s why I fight. I love that daily risk of a challenger. Though I also fight because it’s my obsession, but besides that I can honestly say I like being a daredevil.”
Though not trashed, Roy was feeling a little more than just tipsy, verging on drunk. Grinning at the daemon lord, he nodded towards him and added, “Ya know, I think I have a lot more respect for you than I already had before. Good to know you’re not full of crap like human politicians. Their shit is too complicated.” They were all ‘hush-hush let’s do things while no one’s looking to make our bad actions okay’ when they should just confront each other and get it over with.
When he stood, he leaned a little too far to the right at first, then took an unbalanced step to the left a little. He shook his head as the voices in the room seemed to become more distant, even if they hadn’t moved yet. “Uh yeah, spent most of my time here. Guess you can say I’m an addict at this arena. Maybe when I hone my skills more, I’ll go to others and actually try to make champion.” There was no way in hell he’d challenge Hadjara. Not in anything other than a sparing match at least.
Nearly stumbling as he followed Gabriel, Roy noticed a few familiar faces glancing his way and smiling, raising a silent glass to him. He had quite a few companions that all did work similar to him, and a lot of them seemed to enjoy his singing from time to time. He just smiled back and changed his attention to the bouncer that had been at the door
There was not even a moment of hesitation from the man as he left the two of them through. Completely impressed, Roy glanced his golden eyes over the Gabriel and asked, “Ah, are you half-bardic golem as well then?” It seemed plainly obvious to him. Perhaps a daemon born in Litharia would have a harder time picking apart what kind of daemon was what, but when one was born among nothing but daemons, it was a lot easier to pick up on. “Impressive. Wanna lend me that magic sometime? Would love to use it to get my way more often.” Roy chuckled and walked along the connected hallway that lead to the other building.
The hallway itself was simple. There were no windows, and it was constructed completely out of wood like the rest of the building. However, it was already much nicer. There was a narrow long rug that ran from one end, all the way to the other. Display stands showed vases of previous champions, along with decorative and gory art pieces on the wall. It was almost more like an art museum, and Roy had to focus to keep himself from either falling onto Gabriel, or breaking a piece of art that he probably couldn’t afford to replace.
“Damn. I already feel out of place.” He continued on their way and there didn’t seem to be another bouncer, just another door. As they opened it, Roy held his breath at the sight.
Though the outside of the building looked average, the inside was beautifully decorated. The curtains that covered the windows were made of satin, the tables were expensive, polished and well-made with equally polished and well-made chairs. There was a bar, but oh man did the shelves of bottles behind it look expensive and beautiful in the way they were organized. Even the glasses looked good. Carpet rugs covered most of the wood flooring, and everything just seemed so…clean. There was a large fire pit , and it looked like over by the bar there was a door that probably lead to their kitchen. The wait staff all looked beautiful. By the stairs that lead to the second floor, there was a sign that read ‘brothel’, followed by more signs that most likely said the same word in multiple languages.
And damn did the food smell good.
Already though, Gabriel and Roy stuck out like a sore thumb as a few people stopped their conversations to stare at the two newcomers. Their stares turned into glares though as they recognized Roy, knowing full well he was not a ranked member.
Compared to the other building, this one just seemed so…empty, he noted. There were still a lot of people, but it was a lot easier to move around without bumping into anyone. He looked over to Gabe, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Well. Looks like the locals already don’t approve. Of me, at least.” It was no complaint. Instead, his voiced was laced with the slightest hint of excitement at the chance of some conflict. “I think some expensive drinks and damn good food are in order.”
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Post by Gabriel on Sept 1, 2017 23:02:13 GMT
Gabriel nodded, smiling slightly.
"Sometimes my fights feel a little like gladiator fights. One on one, to the death, often with an audience. I've fought in wars enough times to realise how different battle is to what I do as Daemon Lord to defend the title." There were similarities, too, but the scale of a war, the intensity of leading soldiers to the battlefield, the coordination and widespread, large scale death, these things were a different beast altogether. Which made the gladiator culture, as compared to challenge fights, all the more relateable.
"Have you ever fought like that? In war, on a battlefield?" Another genuine curious question...but also another subtle probe. The Humans and Fae might be teetering on the edge of a brittle ceasefire for now, but the Angels lurked in the back of Gabriel's mind as an ever-present threat. Warriors might be needed in the future, and he liked to be prepared.
"I'm nothing like the King, that much is true." Actually, he referred to the previous King - Gabriel had not met and knew nothing about his son, recently ascended to his father's throne. Quirinoh's mind had finally broken altogether, the rumour went, but Gabriel had known that King as a selfish, cowardly man. And very anti-Daemon.
He was not as drunk as Roy. After centuries of fairly dedicated appreciation for whiskey in particular, but also whatever curious and magical Fae drinks he could get his claws on, Gabriel's tolerance to alcohol was well-developed. More than this, though, he habitually took care with how he drank in unfamiliar places, with unfamiliar people. This was Roy's local and he felt at home here, but to Gabriel the place and the people were new, and some care was warranted. Even so, the faint blurring at the edge of his vision, and the easy-going manner he'd slipped into, suggested the spirits were having some effect. Not enough to impact his confidence in getting through to a strictly off-limits fancy bar, though, and he grinned at Roy once they were through.
"I am. Good thing too, I make very good use of it." The fire magic was showy and destructive, but the bardic magic was who he truly was. For many years, before the fire magic had developed, it was what he relied on entirely, and it was so much a part of him now that he didn't know how to exist in the world without it. It was a big part of the reason he was so striking, so memorable, and it shaped everything from his demeanour to the way he interacted with others.
It was obvious that this place was a cut above the last. The raucous atmosphere faded behind them as they confronted a sumptuously decorated hallway. Gabriel, not one to be awed by splendor, picked up a no-doubt priceless vase and examined it casually, admiring the artwork of a Fae warrior in full armour, a proud tilt to his chin.
"It's all about how you present yourself. Walk in here like you belong and no-one will ask otherwise." This Gabriel did with such ease it was clear how practiced a skill it was. Relaxed, an easy smile, he met the judgemental gazes of the current patrons with flawless confidence that he not only belonged here, he owned the place. Some of them recognised Roy, unfortunately, but he had enough faith in his magic that if they were questioned he'd make it work.
"When they realise us crashing their incredibly boring fancy party is only going to improve their night they'll quickly change their minds. People are easy to manipulate, Roy, as long as you can sell the act. And I've had a lot of practice." A smile at a thin, angular woman dressed in white fur turned her expression from sour to surprised, and a blush crept along her cheeks, but Gabriel didn't linger. He thought Roy's suggestion of a drink was a good one. Taking a seat at the bar, he waved over the man tending it.
"What do you recommend to start the night?"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2017 3:34:53 GMT
Roy nodded as Gabriel spoke. It was nice to have something relatable to use for the conversation. In his eyes, being the Daemon Lord was like the ultimate form of gladiatorial combat, similar how slaves work in the arenas. As an important political figure for the daemons, he was essentially bound to proving to the rest of the daemons that he was capable, strong enough, and worth being their leader. In order to prove that, it seemed imperative to accept every challenge without question, much like how a slave in the arenas have to fight their opponents without question. There were differences that made it very different of course, like the fact that being the Daemon Lord was nothing equal to being a slave, beyond a slave to politics, though that came from choice whereas slaves had none. Even so, it was interesting to hear about Gabriel’s experiences and how it could relate to Roy’s.
The question about war was a curious one, and Roy had to think about it for a second. So much could happen in centuries of life, it was sometimes difficult to recollect all of it in just a few moments. “Can’t say I have, no. Not all my experience is from the arenas though. Never did too much traveling, but I did run into the occasional thief, bandit, gang, etcetera. I’d be lying if I said I don’t enjoy a good fight that ends up with my opponent being dead, so the idea of war seems like the best chance for me to use my skills in a more practical manner.” He shrugged at the mention of enjoying a good fight. It was pretty normal for daemons to feel that way, but Roy was not a Sadist. He didn’t get enjoyment from inflicting pain, but rather just enjoyed the feeling of combat itself and the feeling of being the better and more skilled fighter.
At the confirmation of Gabriel being part bardic golem, Roy smirked. “Huh. Bet that gets real useful as the Daemon Lord.” Roy didn’t know the extent of his powers, since it varied person to person, but he didn’t bother prying. Personally he was more into raw physical strength than mind games or playing with magical words. For now though, as they spent their time in the nicer part of the two buildings, he was grateful for it.
A laugh erupted from Roy. “Easy? Ha! I think I’m too brash to manipulate people. Think I’m more likely to punch someone.” Perhaps a rather stereotypical comment from a battle golem, Roy just thought it was true. For the most part he was a rather easy-going guy, sometimes charismatic. Hell, he even sang in front of his fellow arena peers. But being charismatic in the way that Gabe described seemed difficult, perhaps even impossible for him.
Though he was a little past the tipsy point, Roy was still set on drinking more. Once he reached a certain point, he would stay that way till a significant amount of drinks later, even with hard whiskey. It was part of his charm, he liked to think, that he could be slightly drunk and still drink lots without getting stupid or blacked-out drunk.
They approached the bar, where a woman was busy gathering drinks for the other patrons. At first they sized up the two newcomers up and down, grimacing as if realizing they didn’t belong, but their expressions seemed to change and after a moment, seemed uninterested. If that was Gabriel’s magic at work, then Roy really wondered where his true potential was.
“Uhh something hard, probably. Whiskey? I like whiskey. Bet they got some of old man Gregor’s stuff. Man makes some of the best drinks in Spirit, but they’re outrageously expensive. Good stuff. He likes to give it a tinge of a citrus-like taste mixed in with what’s normally in the drinks. Unique, but good.” When Roy said expensive, he was talking quite a few gold pieces. The drinks were in high demand in Spirit, and constantly sold out so the price on them was constantly going up.
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Post by Gabriel on Sept 17, 2017 2:39:20 GMT
There it was, all that he needed - an expression of interest, a hint that Roy might be intrigued by putting all those skills he was honing to a different use someday. Not forever, not permanently - the Daemons maintained no standing army, they were impossible to coordinate in such a fashion. In fact, coordination had always been their biggest difficulty as a species - they were not naturally given to working together and would never match the efficiency and machine-like uniformity of the Human armies. But Gabriel, more so than any Daemon Lord previously, had found ways to shape his magic around bringing the Daemons together sometimes - the duration of a battle, maybe a war, in a ragged and unpredictable way and yet in a way that could prove deadly if he pulled it off. He could speak telepathically, to individuals or to groups. He could coordinate, direct, summon. And he inspired others - was emotionally manipulative, tantalising, could paint pictures of satiating bloodlust and testing limits in a way that captured the Daemon psyche. And he liked to add to his ranks, when he could.
"I can see you on a battlefield. I think you'd like it...and you'd be a force to be reckoned with. Tell you what, if the opportunity comes up in the future, I'll let you know. It would be a new challenge to your skills. A great way to test yourself in a new environment."
Roy seemed to guess at Gabriel's real power, too, and the Daemon Lord only inclined his head, expression enigmatic.
"More so that you'd guess. We've been a scattered species our whole history. More given to random violence and chaos than shared goals. I never want to undermine our true natures, but thriving in Litharia has taken some...adaptation. We're outnumbered, and so are the Fae. New threats arise that are oriented against our very natures. I intend to be sure we survive them, and keep our place here." He hadn't come through the portal only to see the Daemons wither and die away as a force, the slow trickle of new explorers from the Dream Land the only addition to a scattered, rare, tenuous population. He was carving out a permanent place for the Daemons here, if he could.
"You heard. This Old Man Gregor's...two glasses." If the bartender wondered whether these two unknowns could afford such a thing he wisely kept his mouth shut. Gabriel might operate mostly on subtlety, manipulation and intrigue, but there was something very, very dangerous lurking beneath the elegant veneer. Only complete dolts tended to miss this, and he was generally treated accordingly - with a tense, wary respect. And he did hand over the requested payment, too, assuaging the bar tender's worries in the clink of bright chunks of gold. Raising the heavy crystal glass that was pushed into his hand, he offered Roy a toast.
"To better whiskey than what you'd get next door...and new adventures. What tickles your fancy, then, my friend? The brothel? Finding out a little more about the people that actually earned their way in here? Or just drinking this stuff until we're paralytic?"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 18, 2017 3:59:25 GMT
Roy nodded at Gabriel’s words. Though somewhat drunk, he was intrigued and a little excited at the idea of getting to take part in some form of combat different from his normal experiences. A one on one match made for entertainment was severely different than the pure chaos that came in a full-scale battle. It was in his nature to be excited about pure and utter chaos.
There was no need for them to delve too much into too much of the politics of battle and when Gabriel would need his help. He’d already stated his interest, and he was sure Gabriel would contact him if he ever needed him. Roy was confident enough in his abilities to know that he was not a source that was worth throwing away or forgetting about.
“Hmm, you’re talking about those damned Angels, right? Heard plenty about them from other daemons during some of my time in the Tunnels. Can’t say I’m a fan, really. Sounds like they have a bunch of sticks up their asses.” Truth be told, he knew minimal details about them. All Roy knew was that they hated the very existence of daemons and wanted to wipe them from Litharia. Additionally, they were very, very powerful creatures with strong magic. To Roy’s ears, they sounded like a good challenge. “And the fae, they and the humans got their little war thing going on, so I assume we’re doing the whole ‘We help you, you help us?’ sorta deal?” It was usually a solid tactic, but if they were outnumbered then they’d have to be smart.
Roy’s smile was from ear to ear as the drink they requested appeared. Fuck yeah, he was excited to drink it! He say Gabriel raise it up to a toast and he returned that gesture by raising up his own glass. “And to some damn good fights coming our way!” Gabriel seemed like a man that enjoyed a good fight, and that was a connection that Roy was sure they could relate to. He took a huge swig of his drink, savoring the strong alcohol that came with whiskey, all while feeling his taste buds tingle from that slight hint of citrus he’d mention.
Damn, that was a good drink. The drink was not finished, but he sat it down momentarily to just appreciate the intense warm feeling he felt in his chest. It was a good feeling. “Drinking always tickles my fancy. Never really been good at seducing women though, so I don’t really go to brothels.” He shrugged, not at all bothered by the thought. He preferred to only sleep with women he was well acquainted with anyways. “I’m willing to bet you don’t have that problem,” he jested with a sly, knowing smirk. “I know I may not seem like the type of person, but I like to sing a good tale or two in the tavern when I’m in the mood. I breed wyverns on the side too for a little extra coin.” Roy also enjoyed cooking, but he didn’t get to that part.
Just as he was about to ask what Gabriel liked to do for fun, a man sat down next to them and, purposely, knocked over Roy’s drink. It was so plainly obvious that the man was trying to be an ass that it only took a second for the battle golem to react.
It was hardly out of context since they were all a bunch of gladiators in a small environment, in a bar no less. All killers in some form of way, and alcohol usually ended up with some angry people that were just looking for a fight. Roy had been secretly hoping for one, and now he had an instigator.
Roy turned to face the bulky man that was just about to make some sarcastic comment about him being there, but never had the chance. The golems hand had formed into a fist and flew straight into the man’s nose, knocking him down off the stool and onto the ground. The man, easily twice Roy’s size, cursed and quickly got up to his feet.
And that was when the chaos began.
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Post by Gabriel on Sept 23, 2017 1:44:41 GMT
Gabriel nodded, his expression darkening.
"The Angels. They loathe us. We're the antithesis to everything they are - chaos to their perfect order, their flawless control. But while chaos can tolerate difference because that's part of the definition, they can't seem to tolerate us. I've yet to meet one who hasn't wanted me dead." Which meant, of course, he had yet to meet one which had survived meeting him. Gabriel was not impressed that this ancient species confined for years, lifetimes, to their isle had taken about three steps on Litharian soil before deciding the Daemons were mortal, irreconcilable enemies. But the Angels viewed them as invaders, aliens who usurped the natural magic of this world to enter uninvited, and unwanted. Thus far, their differences seemed insurmountable, and a tension was brewing that made Gabriel uneasy.
And angry.
"They're fun to kill. They scream if you so much as touch a claw to their precious wings." A flash of darkness there, of the subtle cruelty and sadism lurking beneath the diplomatic veneer. Gabriel was careful about how much of his multi-faceted nature to show at any one time, to any particular person. He worked hard to make sure that his charisma, his charm, were what came to mind first when his name was mentioned. But the Angels were a threat, a real one, and worthy of a honest reaction.
"Yes, we're in open alliance with the Fae as of about five years ago. I've personally supported them for much longer, but we have a formal agreement now. Which puts us, technically, at war with the Humans, though we're in something of a ceasefire now with the changing of their King." He grinned at Roy's enthusiasm. That was what he liked to hear.
Roy was also right about the whiskey. Gabriel lingered over the first sip, pleasantly surprised by the distinct citrus hit that followed the first hit of syrup and cedar and burning.
"You know, the whole point of brothels is that you don't have to seduce them. The gold does it for you." Gabriel's tone turned relaxed, the whiskey doing it's work, his observation verging on teasing in a gentle way.
"Seduction? No, no problem there." He laughed; Roy could read people just fine, it was funny to think he thought of himself as no good at it. That was all seduction was, really; reading people and responding accordingly.
"Singing? Brilliant, you can sing here! Do you know any of the old songs?" Bardic golems could all sing, and Gabriel was no stranger to this himself although he indulged only rarely.
Before Gabriel could insist on a performance, though, all hell broke loose. One moment they were talking and drinking, and the next a very expensive whiskey was pooling all over the bar and a man's nose was making a distinct crunching noise under the attentions of Roy's fist. Gabriel was on his feet before the man hit the ground and when some unknown person took a swing towards him, his eyes narrowed imperceptibly. The man - shorter than him by a head but apparently not put off by this - found his arm stopped in midair, Gabriel not having moved, his closed fist an inch from the Daemon Lord's jaw. With flames dancing in once blue-green eyes, Gabriel folded his arms and broke the offender's fingers one by one, telekinetically, before moving on to every other bone in his hand. He stopped at the wrist - the bones there were small, finicky, and he didn't think he telekinesis was refined enough. Besides, he'd made his point - the man was staring at his suspended hand and screaming in horror, not even looking at the unimpressed Daemon dressed head to toe in casual black who had caused the injury.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 23, 2017 6:08:57 GMT
Roy had never actually encountered an angel, but damn did he want to know. They sounded like complete pricks. He was able to appreciate the hint of sadism that the Daemon Lord had toward their sword enemy, and Roy felt it was justified. The very existence of daemons was a insult to them, and in their eyes, needed to be eradicated. Roy had no desire to be eradicated just because he had a difference of opinion, nor did he think an entire species should have to deal with something as stupid as that.
Their entire conversation about angels and brothels was lost for the time being, as was the request to sing. Roy would have been happy to do so, but was instead distracted with the brewing bar fight that had started, partially by him, and partially by the man that made his drink fall.
The screaming was intense, and, while the man on the ground was getting himself together, Roy looked over to see the mistake some guy made trying to pick a fight with the daemon lord. The battle golem made a cringing face, but was smiling like an idiot at the same time. Not necessarily at the pain itself. He turned back to the man who was getting back up on his feet, blood plastered and oozing down his face. The man was in some form of half-form now, with the bottom legs and ears of a goat as well as some gnarly looking horns. There was more fur around his face, but Roy didn’t much care.
With some weird goat sound, the man bent forward and charged like an animal, but it was almost laughable at how easy it was to sidestep him. The golem didn’t even move quick, quirking an eyebrow up with mild confusion and literally just…taking one step to the side. The goat man missed and ended up ramming his horns into the bar, clearly stuck in them after using so much force.
Shrugging and still wanting his revenge for the drink, the drunk daemon kicked hard behind the man’s goat knees, making him collapse, followed by a swift and hefty kick to the ribs that resulted in a sickening crack.
Oops.
The goat man seemed to have friends though. Within a split second, Roy’s face twisted to the side as a fist snuck its way past his peripherals and landed squarely on his cheek. There was no pain, only the sensation of his head being forcibly moved to the side.
He grabbed the arm that had hit him and turned to face the human woman that had hit him, face blatant with concern for the goat man and irritation at Roy’s blatant violence. Though his only quarrel had been with the shifter, now the woman was involved herself since the battle golem would never leave a malicious hit unanswered. Without hesitation, he gripped her arm with enough strength that she could not pull away and snapped it down way past what her elbow should have normally allowed.
As the joint popped out of its socket, she roared and screamed at the same time from pain and anger, and used her other arm to try and uppercut the daemon. Part of his magical ability was increased flexibility and maneuverability however, and instead of letting it land, Roy merely bent backwards in a fashion that would be uncomfortable for most.
The woman used enough power to where her arm kept moving up past Roy, and he took that chance to grab her shoulder and sweep her feet out from under her, making her crash to the floor. All the while, the goat man was screaming incoherent babble while still stuck in the bar.
As for the rest of the bar, it was just pure chaos.
Glasses were being thrown, while other members were fighting one another, some with grins across their faces. Roy looked over at Gabriel, then motioned to the unconscious woman on the floor. “So much for seducing, eh?”
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Post by Gabriel on Sept 28, 2017 21:42:55 GMT
Gabriel released his would-be attacker from the telekinetic hold eventually, expression impassive as he watched the man back away, clutching his arm close to his chest, fear and pain written over his features. Then, he side-stepped neatly before the goat Shifter even charged at Roy, because it was easy enough to calculate the likely outcome ahead of time. The hints he would charge - the noise, the fury on his face - were apparent. And Gabriel knew Roy had magically enhanced speed and reflexes. So, by the time the Shifter reached the bar, Gabriel was already out of the way and watching with something between disdain and amusement as the man's horns lodged deeply into the no doubt antique wood.
Whoever it was that grabbed Gabriel's shoulder, then, in an effort to turn him around and probably hit him in the face, didn't obtain even a glance from the Daemon Lord before he reacted punishingly. Searing fire, once contained to his eyes, erupted over the rest of his body until he was a being of fire rather than flesh. The smell of burning meat immediately filled the room, thick black smoke spiralling upwards from where what had once been a hand had grabbed him. Now, it was a ruined mess of burns, the skin peeling back from muscle, flesh bubbling and turning ashen. If the man with the broken hand had screamed this person shrieked, agonised, and Gabriel finally turned to find a slender, elegant man with green hair and eyes staggering as the pain threatened to make him pass out. The fire passed then, as quickly as it had started, and there was a wide berth around him to the distance of a ring of charcoal on the ground, although fighting continued throughout the bar. The bar tender who had served them was, wisely, nowhere to be seen. Security had to be seconds away, though, so Gabriel took a seat and endeavoured to look innocent and relaxed, as if he couldn't imagine why all this chaos seemed to be happening.
"Aggressive lot, aren't they?" He watched Roy dispatch a female attacker and noted the way he fought, the strengths he might one day bring to a battlefield. And he was relatively impressed; it was a highly physical, up-close style, very fast and efficient. A glass that came flying Gabriel's way froze in midair a few inches from his face before floating gently to the bar, unbroken, but he didn't seem to react to that. He was more interested in seeing if they could get away with not getting kicked out.
"Once security gets here I'm going to blame it on our goat friend over there. Try to look innocent."
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Post by Deleted on Sept 29, 2017 4:51:38 GMT
Roy…wasn’t entirely sure how to take in the way Gabriel reacted to the two men that had attempted to punch him. It’d seemed so excessive, but then again they were all holier-than-thou assholes that had given the battle golem a dirty look the moment he walked in. Plus the guy was the Daemon Lord. He couldn’t very well just let a freebie punch get in. Or could he? Maybe it didn’t even cross his mind that dodging and punching the guys back was an option. Oh well. Way too late now. That smell of burning flesh was all too familiar to Roy, so it didn’t much bother him like it did some of the other patrons.
He was sure the other patrons had just decided to not mess with the two of them. Roy looked at the goat man that was still struggling, calling them all sorts of profanities. The golem smiled and grabbed one of the random drinks left as the rest of the bar continued to fight and raised it to him in a sarcastic cheer before downing the thick mead.
“Yeah. Totally them that’s aggressive. Not me. I didn’t start this.” He was grinning like an idiot. Even if things had escalated very quickly and there were two screaming men in withering pain, as well as an unconscious woman on the floor and a goat in the bar, Roy was having a phenomenal time.
Mirroring the daemon lord, he turned away from the roughians that were still fighting and frowned at the realization that the bartender probably wasn’t coming back for a while. “Think I could convince you to use some of that neat ass telekinetic power to get some of those drinks on the wall in our hands?” He didn’t much care if security showed up, truth be told. It wasn’t like bar brawls were uncommon…besides what Gabriel had done. No doubt he’d have the ability to convince someone quite easily that he’d done nothing.
“Maybe I’ll take a break from the arena matches. Not really sure what else I’d do, but I haven’t been doing much else for a long while.” He fell back into conversation just like that, ignoring the yells and the bouncers that had finally come in to stop everyone that was still fighting. “Guess I just kind of exist and live in the moment right now. Not sure I want to keep it that way. Most people in Litharia seem to just ‘exist’ till they die.”
Their conversation was cut short though, as one of the bouncers, a snack shifter in his half-form with slitted pupils, dusty brown scaly skin and long fangs, put a hand on Roy’s shoulder and turned him around as well as eyed Gabriel.
“Who the hell are you two?”
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Post by Gabriel on Oct 6, 2017 8:14:56 GMT
The fire worked as it always did; no-one approached Gabriel after that. He had learned, by now, that this particular kind of magic wasn't only showy and dramatic - it scared people. The intensity of the heat was often enough to frighten people off because the pain that came with burns was unlike any other. Indeed, the man that Gabriel had burned had passed out in the corner, smoke still curling off his skin. And Gabriel hadn't even meant that, not really - he had reacted instinctively to being touched by someone he presumed meant to attack. But if it did the job so be it; Gabriel wasn't one to feel remorse for what he considered a deserved outcome. He'd never hidden his power when he walked in here - that idiot's loss if he couldn't read the signs.
So he looked relaxed, grinning easily amidst the chaos, when Roy raised a stolen drink in cheers.
"Hey, the odd punch thrown at a bar, that's a regular night out. They turned it into a brawl defending our farmyard friend here." The man, not appreciating the farmyard reference, called Gabriel a very rude name amongst all the other swearing and the Daemon Lord raised a brow at Roy, amused. At the same time four bottles of various shapes and sizes got up off the shelves of their own accord and floated gently down to the bar in front of them, as requested. After all, the bar tender had scarpered and they had a few seconds before security got here...and Roy was owed a replacement drink.
"Take your pick, I guess. That one looks good." Gabriel picked up a short, fat bottle of ornate crystal and poured out a pale lavender drink held inside into the glass that had recently been thrown at his head. It tasted like blueberry and mint, refreshing and not at all sweet.
"There are worse places to live than in the moment. But if you're looking for a big project, war with some Angels might not be a bad way to occupy your time."
“Who the hell are you two?”
Gabriel, supremely relaxed, was now sitting with his back to the bar, drink in hand. He smiled benignly at the bouncer, who was scowling and practically radiating fury.
"An owner. I came along to see the lifestyle success with my fighting slaves might bring me, and I find this very fancy bar overrun with drunken brawlers. Can't say I'm impressed." Gabriel had no idea how plausible this story was. Was the bar even open to owners? It didn't matter, though, when the words were coated with a magic to spin lies into truth.
"Apologies, sir. We'll get the place cleaned up right away."
"Can you start with the goat man? He's the one that started it and if you don't remove him in the next ten seconds I'm going to break his neck just to shut him up." Gabriel smiled pleasantly. The bouncer blinked once. No need for magic then - it wasn't a lie.
"Of...of course." The statement had stretched the magic of the earlier lie to the limit, suggesting that the relaxed, charming Daemon at the bar was more than capable of the kind of violence that had the place in chaos. But either the lie was too powerful to break completely, or the guard decided it was safer to go along with it anyway. None too gently he freed the Shifter from the bar and dragged him out, still screaming and swearing at both Gabriel and Roy.
"That's better. You knocked that woman out cold, you know. You weren't lying about the seduction thing, huh?"
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