wrapped around the plate

[priorcommitment]

Compared 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.

Comments

[all_dewy]

Walking through the door, she was hit by it, that oppressive feeling of power, her eyes blackening for the span of one blink. One corner of her lips curled into a smirk and she stepped forward, sauntering confidently toward the bar.

It was a rare thing. A bar for monsters, in the open, humans filtering in and out with varying degrees of comfort. Some of them relaxed, either clueless or careless, while just a few of them weaved through the crowd, eyes wide and staring like they were on a trip to the zoo.

She couldn't help but wonder how many of these poor lambs never made it home.

Tapping a finger to the bar, she said, "Can I get a shot of tequila, over here?"

[priorcommitment]

The business model only works if all individuals are given a chance. That's what Ishiah tells himself when the new woman walks in, the air around her immediately tasting just slightly of sulfur to Ishiah's heightened senses, enough to arouse his suspicion. She's not a demon of his world, and that forces him to an even greater amount of distance than usual. But, where demons are concerned, Ishiah's first thought now is to check identities with the Winchesters.

He'll have to speak to Dean after his shift is done.

If nothing else, his civility is impeccable. There's no judgment or hesitation before Ishiah pours out a shot of tequila, not spilling a single drop before he slides the drink in her direction.

"Would you like to open a tab?" he asks.

It's not as personable as some bartenders, but that's just standard for Ishiah.

[all_dewy]

"Might as well," she said, turning her attention to him and really looking, one corner of her mouth lifting into a curious smile.

"Love the meatsuit," she said, "Very... tall."

[priorcommitment]

She's noticed enough for her interest to have piqued. That isn't too hard, usually, when Ishiah's working at the bar. He doesn't do much to mask his existence from anyone who's looking to know; while he doesn't keep his wings out in the same way that he did back in Manhattan, he's not trying too hard to fit himself into an entirely human mold, either. The people who remain ignorant of his identity are those who were clueless in the first place, or those who might even have been willfully unaware.

This woman is neither of those things.

"I'd be careful making assumptions in this restaurant," he replies passively, doing nothing to give away the fact that his body is anything but borrowed. "But I suppose height is an advantage."

[all_dewy]

"Really?" she said, clearly unconvinced. "Are you saying I'm wrong?"

She knocked back the shot and tapped the rim of her glass for another. This was dangerous. Poking the bear, so to speak, and normally she wasn't stupid enough to get within a hundred yards of an angel, but this place was presumably neutral territory.

"'Cause you're putting out major avian vibes, if you know what I mean."

[priorcommitment]

"I am saying that you should be careful making assumptions in this restaurant," Ishiah said evenly, glancing briefly down at her glass before pouring her another shot. If nothing else, he supposed that he could use this evening as an opportunity to see how affected her sort of being could be by alcohol. If she was anything like the demons he knew from his world, then it would do nothing.

But he almost hoped that it did.

"I didn't say anything one way or the other regarding avian vibes. I hope I'm doing more to show that I am a serviceable bartender."

[all_dewy]

"Yeah, you're great. Remind me to leave you a big tip," she said flatly, rolling her eyes.

"I'm new here. A place like this, I thought I might be able to get some answers, but if everybody's gonna hold their cards as tight to their chest as you do, it looks like I'm wasting my time."

[priorcommitment]

"Some people are very vocal about their lives and background," Ishiah says, raising his brow, dragging his towel across the counter to take care of some of the smudges there. "And others are very open about what they've learned about the city. If you're looking to learn, this place isn't a bad place to do it."

He tilts his head. "Just bear in mind that we have strict rules regarding conduct in the restaurant. If you have business with someone, take it outside."

[all_dewy]

"Business?" she said, giving him a look. "If my business includes the removal of organs, I'll be sure to find a better location."

Taking a little more time with this shot, she waited a little longer before knocking it back. It was decent tequila, and she probably would've enjoyed it a little more if she gave herself time to taste it, but she wasn't in a bar drinking because she wanted something that tasted good.

"I take it you're not one of those vocal people."

[priorcommitment]

"That would be wise," Ishiah replied to her statement, not flinching in the slightest. Removal of organs wasn't entirely unheard of with the audience that he served. Some species could have their insides practically eviscerated, but then healed back to full form. Others fed on life force, some on blood, and some were simply predators — but fearful enough of those bigger than themselves that they kept quiet in the restaurant.

The place was nothing short of a catered detente.

"And an astute observation. It pays to be less than vocal as an employee here," he said, raising his gaze.