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washing my hands of the many years untold
Mar. 23rd, 2014 09:37 pmFor several days now, Ishiah hasn't been able to rid himself of the tension in his body. The center of it nestles itself directly between his shoulder blades, a constant reminder of everything that he's done his best to keep his eye on as of late, and of everything that remains firmly out of his control. Darrow is, in many ways, no better or worse than the Manhattan that he left.
But it is small and contained, and that makes any outburst twice as deadly for those it could potentially affect.
The thought doesn't stop him from continuing to work at Semele's. In fact, recently he's been pulling longer hours at the restaurant, finding some minor solace in keeping his hands busy in some way that proves helpful to others. Customers come to Semele's for that safe haven, and save for a couple of near exceptions, no one's left the place any worse off than when they entered it. It's a record that Ishiah plans to help the restaurant keep.
He's acting as the bartender today, serving specialty drinks during happy hour and keeping busy. Only when a lull takes place in the middle of the evening does Ishiah really look up and scan through the customers, a soft smile appearing on his face as he spots someone he's been hoping would stop by.
"Hello, Tara," he says, walking over to her side of the bar as he polishes a glass. "I hope I find you well."
But it is small and contained, and that makes any outburst twice as deadly for those it could potentially affect.
The thought doesn't stop him from continuing to work at Semele's. In fact, recently he's been pulling longer hours at the restaurant, finding some minor solace in keeping his hands busy in some way that proves helpful to others. Customers come to Semele's for that safe haven, and save for a couple of near exceptions, no one's left the place any worse off than when they entered it. It's a record that Ishiah plans to help the restaurant keep.
He's acting as the bartender today, serving specialty drinks during happy hour and keeping busy. Only when a lull takes place in the middle of the evening does Ishiah really look up and scan through the customers, a soft smile appearing on his face as he spots someone he's been hoping would stop by.
"Hello, Tara," he says, walking over to her side of the bar as he polishes a glass. "I hope I find you well."
Both Robin and Ishiah are people who find solace in keeping busy. In spite of all the ways their attention has been occupied recently, both have managed to put in more hours at the job, filling every last space of their day with something to keep their hands busy with. Neither necessarily talks the other through a day of long work. Robin has holed himself back in his office, running inventory and drafting up proposals for changes in the running of the restaurant; meanwhile, Ishiah's tasks are more immediate, helping to haul boxes of supplies into Semele's and placing them where needed.
When all of the backlogged work is done, Ishiah finds himself at the bar, slightly restless as he polishes the counter, waiting for the evening to get underway so that he has a higher volume of customers to serve.
After all, not having this job would mean playing a waiting game. Fishing constantly for information isn't always worth it given the level of expended energy, and the likelihood of finding the right sources in the vicinity. There are many different species of vampires in Darrow — there are only two existing beings who are or have been angels at some point in time.
Scouring forty thousand people in hopes of finding a reliable third party source just isn't practical.
He's deep in thought, his expression that of darkly rolling clouds in a stormy day, when he spots a familiar face striding up to the bar.
"Here for a drink?" he asks, trying to relax the tension in his jaw.
When all of the backlogged work is done, Ishiah finds himself at the bar, slightly restless as he polishes the counter, waiting for the evening to get underway so that he has a higher volume of customers to serve.
After all, not having this job would mean playing a waiting game. Fishing constantly for information isn't always worth it given the level of expended energy, and the likelihood of finding the right sources in the vicinity. There are many different species of vampires in Darrow — there are only two existing beings who are or have been angels at some point in time.
Scouring forty thousand people in hopes of finding a reliable third party source just isn't practical.
He's deep in thought, his expression that of darkly rolling clouds in a stormy day, when he spots a familiar face striding up to the bar.
"Here for a drink?" he asks, trying to relax the tension in his jaw.
and i am a weapon of massive consumption
Mar. 16th, 2014 08:45 pmIn the time that Ishiah's known Okumura Rin, he's quickly learned that the young boy isn't someone who learns by theory or instruction, but instead through practice. To someone who has had the skill built into his mind by design, trying to find ways to ramp Rin up in the ways of swordfighting is difficult. Extracting his power in a manageable way, even more so.
But the more time Ishiah spends with the young boy, the more he comes to realize the depth of the power and potential in him. In the short term, Rin needs to be able to harness that power for good; in the long run, Ishiah would prefer to be someone who knows those abilities inside and out, in the event that he ever has to fight them directly.
The situation reminds him of Caliban's in more ways than one.
Ishiah makes his way over to an abandoned warehouse out beyond the suburbs, wanting the privacy and space necessary for Rin to speak frankly about his power. In time, he plans to make the very same trip with Rin's brother, not entirely convinced that Okumura Yukio is as fully human as he would have others believe. But in the few interactions he's had with both brothers, it's clear that being in one another's presence makes both of them hold back in ways.
"Rin," he says, lifting his gaze when he hears steps echo within the wide walls of the main room. "Thank you for taking the time to join me."
But the more time Ishiah spends with the young boy, the more he comes to realize the depth of the power and potential in him. In the short term, Rin needs to be able to harness that power for good; in the long run, Ishiah would prefer to be someone who knows those abilities inside and out, in the event that he ever has to fight them directly.
The situation reminds him of Caliban's in more ways than one.
Ishiah makes his way over to an abandoned warehouse out beyond the suburbs, wanting the privacy and space necessary for Rin to speak frankly about his power. In time, he plans to make the very same trip with Rin's brother, not entirely convinced that Okumura Yukio is as fully human as he would have others believe. But in the few interactions he's had with both brothers, it's clear that being in one another's presence makes both of them hold back in ways.
"Rin," he says, lifting his gaze when he hears steps echo within the wide walls of the main room. "Thank you for taking the time to join me."
When left at an impasse, Ishiah retreats into his own mind for answers. Uncertainty remains one of the less pleasant aspects of being separated from the guidance he once enjoyed as an angel. As Ishiah leans against the window frame, he flexes his hand steadily, closing repeatedly around thin air; it's hard to clear old habits.
Manhattan as a backdrop has never been a view Ishiah felt married to. Instead, it's the hard-earned peace that he let himself sink into more than anything, and Darrow isn't so far off in that respect. There are no sides constantly waging wars, and privacy is easily earned. For more reasons than one, he's felt comfortable enough in Darrow to settle, and to think of a distant future spent there with Robin.
Right now, the question is how far he plans to meddle to maintain that peace.
Hearing the front door of the apartment open and Robin's keys jingling as he returns from his shift, Ishiah pushes himself away from the window. With his shoulders held back, he easily strides across the space of the room, waiting only for Robin to shrug off his jacket before enveloping him in a close, warm embrace from behind.
"Are you feeling better after having spent some time at the restaurant?" Ishiah asks, letting himself bury his face against the side of Robin's neck, lips delivering a soft kiss against warm skin.
Manhattan as a backdrop has never been a view Ishiah felt married to. Instead, it's the hard-earned peace that he let himself sink into more than anything, and Darrow isn't so far off in that respect. There are no sides constantly waging wars, and privacy is easily earned. For more reasons than one, he's felt comfortable enough in Darrow to settle, and to think of a distant future spent there with Robin.
Right now, the question is how far he plans to meddle to maintain that peace.
Hearing the front door of the apartment open and Robin's keys jingling as he returns from his shift, Ishiah pushes himself away from the window. With his shoulders held back, he easily strides across the space of the room, waiting only for Robin to shrug off his jacket before enveloping him in a close, warm embrace from behind.
"Are you feeling better after having spent some time at the restaurant?" Ishiah asks, letting himself bury his face against the side of Robin's neck, lips delivering a soft kiss against warm skin.
The moment that someone steps into Semele's is the moment that they register on Ishiah's radar. It's important to be able to look into the background of a customer, especially if they later become a regular patron. Most of the time, it's nothing too interesting. Your average salaryman, come to Semele's to have a break and to indulge themselves with good food and drink, sometimes with a family in tow.
When one young man asked recently to see the owner within fifteen minutes of entering, however, Ishiah decided to keep a closer eye on him.
Afterwards, it became a waiting game. The boy's surname was familiar, as was the color of his eyes. Ishiah had considered briefly trailing after the young man and speaking to his more well-acquainted brother, but the brother comes into Semele's often enough on his own, and the last thing Ishiah wants to do is raise alarm before it becomes necessary.
So he waits until Rin comes into the restaurant again late one day, heading directly for a booth at the back of the restaurant and ordering his usual soda as he waits for Nuriko to finish her shift.
Casually, Ishiah makes his way to the table, and seats himself across from Rin.
"I met your brother recently," he says with a slight furrow of his brows, without greeting or preamble.
When one young man asked recently to see the owner within fifteen minutes of entering, however, Ishiah decided to keep a closer eye on him.
Afterwards, it became a waiting game. The boy's surname was familiar, as was the color of his eyes. Ishiah had considered briefly trailing after the young man and speaking to his more well-acquainted brother, but the brother comes into Semele's often enough on his own, and the last thing Ishiah wants to do is raise alarm before it becomes necessary.
So he waits until Rin comes into the restaurant again late one day, heading directly for a booth at the back of the restaurant and ordering his usual soda as he waits for Nuriko to finish her shift.
Casually, Ishiah makes his way to the table, and seats himself across from Rin.
"I met your brother recently," he says with a slight furrow of his brows, without greeting or preamble.
ding dong, the bells are gonna chime
Sep. 29th, 2013 10:03 amIshiah waits until there's finally a day on Semele's schedule that shows Robin doesn't plan on stopping by before he takes on the task of asking his colleagues for feedback. He has most of the official proposal planned out already — plenty of flowers, plenty of drink and song, and the birds he wants to borrow are his own personal touch. Even the outfit is easy enough to plan knowing what Robin generally prefers to see Ishiah wear, greens that draw out the blue of his eyes and give it a little more depth. Most of these are things that they've spoken about any number of times, even if not in this context, and the space is familiar for Ishiah to work with.
All but one: he still has no idea how to choose Robin's wedding ring.
Jewelry, on the whole, is not something that Ishiah cares much for. Its value is purely material, meant to symbolize a lasting love with lasting materials that have been so far removed from the earth. But there's enough value in both the happiness that Robin would get from the gesture and the clear declaration of love that would be ever present on their hands that Ishiah decides to take a chance.
He just won't be going alone.
"Lucy," he says that day as they're cleaning up, ready to end their shifts. "May I have a moment? I have a rather personal favor to ask."
All but one: he still has no idea how to choose Robin's wedding ring.
Jewelry, on the whole, is not something that Ishiah cares much for. Its value is purely material, meant to symbolize a lasting love with lasting materials that have been so far removed from the earth. But there's enough value in both the happiness that Robin would get from the gesture and the clear declaration of love that would be ever present on their hands that Ishiah decides to take a chance.
He just won't be going alone.
"Lucy," he says that day as they're cleaning up, ready to end their shifts. "May I have a moment? I have a rather personal favor to ask."
In the absence of a regular job, Ishiah spent much of his time forging connections with individuals placed strategically around Darrow, doing his best to keep aware of new and unusual dangers within the city limits. Of particular interest tonight were rumors that had reached him about a Scitalis nesting in the sewer system, a creature Ishiah hadn't encountered in centuries — and, considering the fact that many species in Darrow were more iterations on a theme as opposed to being directly related to those he'd known before, Ishiah wasn't keen on jumping in blindly.
Most of the sightings had been reported within or around the Darrow High School campus, and so Ishiah felt a greater pressure to learn quickly of its abilities and either isolate or slay the creature, whichever was necessary to keep the city's children safe. The large television in his apartment played portions of security camera footage on loop, and his coffee table was littered with books and notes, a large pot of coffee on the side long having gone cold.
Tomorrow, he would set out for the first time in search of the beast, but having done most of what he could do to prepare, Ishiah leaned back on his couch and rubbed at his eyes, contemplating the idea of sleep.
Most of the sightings had been reported within or around the Darrow High School campus, and so Ishiah felt a greater pressure to learn quickly of its abilities and either isolate or slay the creature, whichever was necessary to keep the city's children safe. The large television in his apartment played portions of security camera footage on loop, and his coffee table was littered with books and notes, a large pot of coffee on the side long having gone cold.
Tomorrow, he would set out for the first time in search of the beast, but having done most of what he could do to prepare, Ishiah leaned back on his couch and rubbed at his eyes, contemplating the idea of sleep.
hard to live in the city
May. 12th, 2013 01:48 pmWithin the city, the park is one of Ishiah's favorite places to go. There's something about having an open space surrounded by frenzied movement that appeals to his sensibilities, enjoying the idea of having an oasis amid the chaos. It allows him to keep a closer eye on people as well, tracking those whom he can — that list, unfortunately, seems to grow fewer by the day. Something about this place keeps on stamping down on his abilities.
It's not the easiest process to bear.
Still, he sits on a bench in the middle of the park, learning to suppress his anger, which has surfaced all too often as of late. Too many variables completely out of his control. Too much that he needs to try and learn, but can't guarantee that he will.
When he glances up and catches sight of Castiel in the distance, it's calming, because at least their greeting is one thing he knows is under his control.
"Castiel," he says, lifting his chin in beckoning and gesturing to the empty space beside him on the bench.
It's not the easiest process to bear.
Still, he sits on a bench in the middle of the park, learning to suppress his anger, which has surfaced all too often as of late. Too many variables completely out of his control. Too much that he needs to try and learn, but can't guarantee that he will.
When he glances up and catches sight of Castiel in the distance, it's calming, because at least their greeting is one thing he knows is under his control.
"Castiel," he says, lifting his chin in beckoning and gesturing to the empty space beside him on the bench.
There are many things in life that Ishiah frequently regards as superfluous. Gestures that have little meaning outside of what people choose to attribute to them. Money that gets spent on presents that have little practical worth. But in the time that Ishiah has spent on earth, he's come to acknowledge the value of symbols. The white hyacinth has no inherent properties that will bring Dean Winchester back to full health, no powers of healing, but the symbolism it carries is not without worth.
Either to himself or to the healing.
Years ago, a young man strode into Robin Goodfellow's life without any prior warning. It was a young man that Robin had known before, time and time again, in other lives, under other names, but this encounter was perhaps the one which elevated their relationship to a point which it had never met before. Friendship was the reason, lives interwoven and love exchanged. And Ishiah was there to witness it, to see all the ways it changed Robin; although for a long time, Ishiah wasn't sure whether or not to say that it was a change for the better, these days there's a soft fondness in that area of his chest that he can't rid himself of. An inherent love for man and all its flaws, no matter how tangled lives became.
Caliban Leandros was swept away, used by a host, and with no promise of being able to return to who he'd once been, his family had put everything on the line to save him. Robin included.
Somehow it's worse this time, because Robin didn't even get the chance to try.
Ishiah stands at Dean's door, knocks sharply on the wood, carries a potted plant in his arms and a hope for forgiveness, because for the first time since he arrived in Darrow, he truly feels that he's failed someone.
More than one, even.
Either to himself or to the healing.
Years ago, a young man strode into Robin Goodfellow's life without any prior warning. It was a young man that Robin had known before, time and time again, in other lives, under other names, but this encounter was perhaps the one which elevated their relationship to a point which it had never met before. Friendship was the reason, lives interwoven and love exchanged. And Ishiah was there to witness it, to see all the ways it changed Robin; although for a long time, Ishiah wasn't sure whether or not to say that it was a change for the better, these days there's a soft fondness in that area of his chest that he can't rid himself of. An inherent love for man and all its flaws, no matter how tangled lives became.
Caliban Leandros was swept away, used by a host, and with no promise of being able to return to who he'd once been, his family had put everything on the line to save him. Robin included.
Somehow it's worse this time, because Robin didn't even get the chance to try.
Ishiah stands at Dean's door, knocks sharply on the wood, carries a potted plant in his arms and a hope for forgiveness, because for the first time since he arrived in Darrow, he truly feels that he's failed someone.
More than one, even.
wrapped around the plate
May. 4th, 2013 11:00 amCompared to being brought to an entire new world against his will, having some of his powers suppressed is less of a stretch. The problem is, the realization never comes until after the first slip. From the perspective of someone who likes to look closely after all the people who matter to him, someone who hates not being in the know about a city's ongoings, having his face turned forcefully away from everything that's happened to Dean Winchester is completely inexcusable.
Now that it's all come to light, it feels like emotions are seeping back into his body, making Ishiah away, his eyes sharper, his suspicions higher.
And he's angry.
But there's little to be done in the wake of all the tumult. Dean is safe again for now, and Semele's is short some of the activity it used to see. The city's trials and tribulations are largely those addressed with force rather than networking.
So Ishiah puts his head down to the ground, buries himself in his work. Semele's runs even more efficiently than usual, bringing in a larger customer load, making the most of the limited space. Behind the bar, Ishiah churns drinks out as quickly as they're requested, his eyes sharp as he observes every customer who comes in through the doors.
Just in case.
Now that it's all come to light, it feels like emotions are seeping back into his body, making Ishiah away, his eyes sharper, his suspicions higher.
And he's angry.
But there's little to be done in the wake of all the tumult. Dean is safe again for now, and Semele's is short some of the activity it used to see. The city's trials and tribulations are largely those addressed with force rather than networking.
So Ishiah puts his head down to the ground, buries himself in his work. Semele's runs even more efficiently than usual, bringing in a larger customer load, making the most of the limited space. Behind the bar, Ishiah churns drinks out as quickly as they're requested, his eyes sharp as he observes every customer who comes in through the doors.
Just in case.
long road to ruin
Mar. 3rd, 2013 10:17 pmHe's spent the entire day trying to find a way out of the barrier cast high up in the sky. Shoulders slightly bruised and a few errant feathers trailing behind him, Ishiah makes his way back to the ground carefully, skimming over the largely deserted fields off to the side of the city before circling to the ground, feet running lightly down the dirt path. As far as he can tell, the absolute limits of the barrier can't be reached by someone of his abilities, his brain turning away from conscious thought every time he tries.
Somehow, that's the most unsettling part.
When he reaches a block away from his apartment, Ishiah pauses at the street corner, peeking next down in the direction of Robin's flat instead. Even though he knows that Robin's due to remain at Semele's for another couple of hours, still he changes course, walking at a clipped pace all the way until he reaches Robin's apartment, neatly sliding his key and stepping inside.
Seating himself carefully down on Robin's couch, Ishiah rests his head in his hands for a few minutes, fingers massaging neat circles over his temples.
He falls asleep shortly thereafter, crouched over with his elbows resting on his knees.
Somehow, that's the most unsettling part.
When he reaches a block away from his apartment, Ishiah pauses at the street corner, peeking next down in the direction of Robin's flat instead. Even though he knows that Robin's due to remain at Semele's for another couple of hours, still he changes course, walking at a clipped pace all the way until he reaches Robin's apartment, neatly sliding his key and stepping inside.
Seating himself carefully down on Robin's couch, Ishiah rests his head in his hands for a few minutes, fingers massaging neat circles over his temples.
He falls asleep shortly thereafter, crouched over with his elbows resting on his knees.
have yourself a merry little christmas
Dec. 24th, 2012 10:11 amOrder, like everything else in Ishiah's life, has its place. Life comes too quickly, ever tumultuous, for Ishiah to expect it in all walks, senses increasingly honed over the centuries to pick up on the slightest changes in the wind, but he finds it in the slightest of details, holds them close to his chest. The same mug of coffee whenever he walks into the coffee, testing its strength, stocking enough to offer the patrons who never seem to know their limits, or otherwise insist on testing them day by day. The same pattern with which to wipe the counters, sweeping motions that waste no time, but overlap enough to guarantee cleanliness. It isn't that Ishiah is incapable of change, but instead that it's only during the constants that he manages to relax at all, shoulders losing their tension even while his eyes and gaze are held sharp. All of it, at its core, amounts to little more than a stubborn habit and addiction clung to by a man never meant to walk the earth for so long.
Mornings have turned lazy over recent months, never quite the same, but still a constant. Tangled limbs and reluctant murmurs, a press a back to chest and fingers weaving through hair. Warmth, always, and heated with a kiss.
The break of that constant is always as abrupt as the shattering of glass.
Ishiah adjusts to the gentle rocking of the train car long before his mind is able to process the details, wings appearing in a blinding flash and sword pulled out with the cool slide of metal. It's a mistake immediately felt as the other passengers in the compartment begin to shriek and yell, some clutching sharply to their chests — the only acknowledgment comes in the sharp furrow of Ishiah's brow, confusion in his expression. He should have sensed them, and quickly enough to stay his hand.
Another second, then two, and both wings and sword are put away.
"Illusionist," he offers by way of explanation, jaw tensing as the train starts to slow, pulling into an unfamiliar station.
Mornings have turned lazy over recent months, never quite the same, but still a constant. Tangled limbs and reluctant murmurs, a press a back to chest and fingers weaving through hair. Warmth, always, and heated with a kiss.
The break of that constant is always as abrupt as the shattering of glass.
Ishiah adjusts to the gentle rocking of the train car long before his mind is able to process the details, wings appearing in a blinding flash and sword pulled out with the cool slide of metal. It's a mistake immediately felt as the other passengers in the compartment begin to shriek and yell, some clutching sharply to their chests — the only acknowledgment comes in the sharp furrow of Ishiah's brow, confusion in his expression. He should have sensed them, and quickly enough to stay his hand.
Another second, then two, and both wings and sword are put away.
"Illusionist," he offers by way of explanation, jaw tensing as the train starts to slow, pulling into an unfamiliar station.
in the east, the gray-green lines
Feb. 3rd, 2012 04:02 pmWhen he sits at the edge of the dock and the tides have risen as much as they do now, the water manages to lap against Ishiah's ankles, the slope of his shoulders uncharacteristically hunched as he stares off into the distance. The bright chirping of birds has faded into the gentle buzz of insects in the distance, hopping from one blade of grass to the next, and Ishiah appreciates the scene just as he does everything else on the island, with an objective eye and an aching heart. It isn't enough to stop him, nor to throw off the tasks which he dutifully fulfills by the day. It isn't enough to drive him mad for the want of home.
But on the rare occasions that it crosses his mind to ask himself whether or not he's happy, the answer doesn't always seem to be so positive of one.
A pair of footsteps sound in the distance, and Ishiah, finding himself curious, glances over his shoulder to spot a young man headed in this direction, to the edge of the dock. He doesn't suspect that the young man is here for him, but instead likely just seeking the very same thing Ishiah is. A momentary period of solace.
He nods in greeting, a thin smile on his lips.
But on the rare occasions that it crosses his mind to ask himself whether or not he's happy, the answer doesn't always seem to be so positive of one.
A pair of footsteps sound in the distance, and Ishiah, finding himself curious, glances over his shoulder to spot a young man headed in this direction, to the edge of the dock. He doesn't suspect that the young man is here for him, but instead likely just seeking the very same thing Ishiah is. A momentary period of solace.
He nods in greeting, a thin smile on his lips.
breathe in, breathe in the day
Feb. 1st, 2012 11:42 pmAmong the many things that Ishiah missed about the Ninth Circle, he always felt as though he hardly spent enough time around wildlife. In his bar, the birds had been teeming, plants placed strategically around the establishment to afford everyone privacy and to offer the birds their own safe haven. Some people had resisted the décor after his initial opening, but in time, as the years wore by, it all fell to silence, because if there was one thing that none of Manhattan could question, it was the fact that Ishiah maintained the safest bar to be found on the East Coast, if not the country altogether. Although he'd taken to working under Ianto far better than someone would expect of a peri who had held his level of title, it was lacking in that very specific respect, and so while on his self-maintained patrol, Ishiah always made sure to stop by the largest of trees, waiting for birds to approach as he scattered crumbs nearby.
Hearing someone coming down the path, Ishiah was careful to raise his head slowly, so as not to disturb the rather excitable animals. Upon seeing a young woman, he offered a small smile, even as the birds began to hop away from the stranger's direction, stepping closer to the base of the tree.
"Hello," he greeted with a slight nod, and it was a peaceful greeting, for all that his surroundings held the peri at ease.
Hearing someone coming down the path, Ishiah was careful to raise his head slowly, so as not to disturb the rather excitable animals. Upon seeing a young woman, he offered a small smile, even as the birds began to hop away from the stranger's direction, stepping closer to the base of the tree.
"Hello," he greeted with a slight nod, and it was a peaceful greeting, for all that his surroundings held the peri at ease.
Goodfellow usually chose bars that reflected his personality, upscale and pretentious. This time he threw image to the wind and picked the first one we came across. We lucked out. It was dark, as all good bars are, but it was clean—from what I could tell. Plants were everywhere… hanging in baskets, creeping over the tables, casting branches toward the ceiling. And I'd have sworn there was a bird on every one of those branches. Parrots, finches, parakeets… and a shitload of others I couldn't identify. I wasn't much on our fine-feathered, jet-force-crapping friends. These seemed well behaved enough, chirping or squawking only occasionally, but I still shot a wary eye upward when I grabbed a spot at the bar. "Weird place," I commented, checking the pretzel bowl suspiciously for white streaks.
"Bacchus be damned," Robin groaned. "It's a peri bar. Just my luck. My catastrophic, bowel-churning luck."
Before I could ask what the hell a peri was, the bartender came over… wings and all. Dove gray barred with silver, they were tucked neatly against his back. In a black T-shirt and jeans with short wavy black hair, he looked like your typical Mario from Queens. The wings could be a gimmick of the bar and stuffed in a locker before he headed home. Could be, but apparently weren't. Stopping opposite us, his round black eyes fixed on Goodfellow and he said without preamble, "Ishiah wants to talk to you."
"I don't remember asking you what Ishiah wanted," Robin responded in a bored tone. "Two beers with a whiskey back."
( Rest of passages under cut. )
"Bacchus be damned," Robin groaned. "It's a peri bar. Just my luck. My catastrophic, bowel-churning luck."
Before I could ask what the hell a peri was, the bartender came over… wings and all. Dove gray barred with silver, they were tucked neatly against his back. In a black T-shirt and jeans with short wavy black hair, he looked like your typical Mario from Queens. The wings could be a gimmick of the bar and stuffed in a locker before he headed home. Could be, but apparently weren't. Stopping opposite us, his round black eyes fixed on Goodfellow and he said without preamble, "Ishiah wants to talk to you."
"I don't remember asking you what Ishiah wanted," Robin responded in a bored tone. "Two beers with a whiskey back."
( Rest of passages under cut. )
it is better to be needed than loved
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