(Untitled)

[venusadept_2]

So... Let's review.

Felix is, essentially, under a curse. His sword wants him to pick fights.

His Djinn don't know what is really happening, but they don't like it, and they're keeping an eye on him to try to forestall a fight.

Currently, Felix is at the Bar, scowling into his glass of Something Dark.

You're sure you want to talk to him?

Comments

[onetruth_sleuth]

A soccer ball rolls over to the stool where he sits, and over runs one six year old boy with large spectacles, obviously too large for his face. He reaches forward and picks up the ball with both hands, then glances up at the man. He takes a step back, quickly studying the man.

[venusadept_2]

[OOC: *Sigh.* If this is what you want...]

"Yes?"

[onetruth_sleuth]

Conan takes another step back. "...You look angry, mister..." he says in his child-like voice. 'That cold look in his eye...I'd say he's killed before, probably several times...' he thinks. After a moment, he blinnks, then tosses the soccer ball up and begins bouncing it with his head, thinking.

[venusadept_2]

"And? You don't act like that's all you want to say."