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?"