(Untitled)
Who: Zerokins & assorted others.
Where: Bar in the Realm of the Unwanted
When: January 14th, noon.
What: A nice little conversation between 'friends.'
Three more days was three days too many. Zero had received only one of Gabriel’s letters, and that was a few too few for his liking. The Longcoat hadn’t said much, but Zero was expecting better news ( Read more... )
"Boss." He spoke with a small nod to the blonde he was now sitting beside. Dawson himself was getting slightly antsy at the lack of action. But while he would have loved to pillage and burn a village to the ground, he knew it would draw unwanted attention. There were some days a man missed the good ol' days.
The Realm of the Unwanted had a distinctly oily feel to it. As if everything was covered in a layer of grime. Even most of the whores. Although, there was that one three breasted woman who Dawson had frequented a time or two. After throwing her in a shower, of course. He wasn't one to get pleasure from something unclean, he preferred the more innocent types himself. They had a certain appeal to their light and happiness that just made him want to crush it out of them.
He took the glass from the bartender, careful not to let the man's filthy fingers touch his. And downed the fiery liquid in a single gulp. Gods he hated this place and it's disgusting inhabitants.
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Dawson had been having some fun lately with a girl who'd made herself known a couple of days ago. She was a tiny little thing but he had no doubts she could hold her own in bed, and all he could think was; 'Damn, how did Dawson get her before me?' Ah well he was sure there'd be another woman around sometime that he'd find and get before anyone else. It was a pathetic competition but it was one.
"Finally got out of bed with that little thing I see." With a smirk he picked up his drink and eyed it for a moment before swiftly downing the drink, nearly choking as he happened to see the woman he was talking about enter.
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Looking around for a moment she moved towards one of the chairs at the end of the bar and ordered something, she wasn't sure what it was but it was hopefully strong. Kieran needed something in her system before she went off to meet with the Queen and the Princesses. Nobility sucked sometimes.
Though if she had her way and the Queen was as kind as they said perhaps she could talk her into allowing Kieran a job at the kennells.
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At the mention of Dawson getting out of bed, Zero took a deep swing of the drink placed before him, automatically wiping his hand on his pants after putting down the cup, and turned to the man who'd spoken.
"Find a whore who isn't absolutely repulsive on sight, did you?" That's a new one, Zero could bet the drink in front of him that Dawson's standards were simply a lot lower than his own. "This place is crawling with filth. I've grown to believe those did not exist down here..."
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She ran her hands down the bustier just to touch her own leather. Her silk skirt flowed with her as she walked.
"I regret to inform you that the spirit was destroyed. I checked everywhere it could have gone, but there is no trace."
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He and Gordan had a delicately balanced relationship. One built on mutual advantage and desire for power. Not that would stop them from beating eachother to hell, but damned if anyone else would talk back to them. If that rare event happened, the pair would team up to nearly kill the dumb bastard.
Expression sobering slightly as he faced his General, Dawson shook his head. "Gorgeous piece of tail. Didn't cost me a copper." The movement behind him caught his eye, and he turned to look at the figure who'd just walked in and smirked again. "Speak of the lower gods," he drawled.
She was a miniscule thing, barely made it up to his shoulder, but not a delicate flower. Instead she was slimly muscled, with very little fat to soften her. But what little she did have made for curves he'd enjoyed indulging in. Not his usual type of curvaceous and pale, but copper and athletic.
And a fantastic bedmate.
His attention was ripped away by the sudden arrival of a vision in ice white and death black. Leather clung to every curve she possessed, and she had every one a guy could dream of. Eyes following the movements of her hands over her clothes, he grinned widely. Apparently in the Realm of the Unwanted, when it rained, it poured.
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"Hey, Zero.." Trailing off he glanced towards the blond General and cleared his throat, "Do you know a woman named Kieran, uh what was it.. Goodman, that's it. Kieran Goodman?" Little did he know.. it was going to be a shock to all three of them, especially when Zero spotted her in the very same bar.
Perhaps he might get a chance at a roll in the hay with her before Dawson got his hands on her again.
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Was it gather around Zero day today? He must have missed the announcement. At the fae's appearance, Zero gave her a small nod, replacing a verbal greeting with another swing of absinthe. At her news, the man let out a loud curse. So much for that notion. It was nice while it had lasted. Following suit of everyone else in the bar, he let himself take a few moments to stare over the fae. Gorgeous thing, she was, out of half the men's dreams. Tearing his eyes away from her black leather, he took another drink.
Ransom's voice drew Zero's mind back to whatever Dawson was sleeping with. Kieran? The name rang a bell, but Zero didn't place it right away. It was oddly familiar, and-- Kieran Goodman? The sound of the very hated last name felt like a knife stabbing Zero in the ear. The absinthe that had not been swallowed was promply spat out of Zero's mouth in Ransom's direction - which he happened to be facing at the moment.
"Do I know her?" A snarl had appeared on the man's face quicker than anyone's expression should change. His eyes ran around the women in the bar, as if expecting to see her there again. "Do I know her?" He was suddenly in the mood to stab something, his hand subconsciously on the handle of his gun, the other still holding the now near-empty glass. His eye caught a tan woman near the back of the bar, and the glass was promptly slammed on the table.
He turned to Dawson this time, a look of vexation in his eyes. "We've met." Met, slept together, and then got married. Damn the bitch. She was still alive, and worse, she was sleeping with Dawson of all men. He was a step up from Demilo, but...
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If the little bastard wasn't happy, no one else got to be. Well, not happy, just not miserable. He glared at the nearly albino git, 'burst into flame, burst into flame, BURST INTO FUCKING FLAME!'
Dawson would've laughed over the fact that Zero just spat absinthe in the other guy's face, if it hadn't sent a chill up his spine. He'd never seen the General react to anything like that, not even the fact that Azkadellia had been possessed by an Ancient Witch had caused him to react much (or so he'd been told). Suddenly Dawason was feeling fear.
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That was the only logical reaction his mind had right now.
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"Hello.. Zero, long time no see. What's it been, sixteen years? You haven't changed a bit."
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