O LOARD JESUS IT'S A FIYAH!! (prp/probably mature)

[Ilvyn Daleroth]

Ilvyn suffered from perpetual loneliness and the feeling had driven him to the brink after locking himself away for a few days, overwhelmed by all he had seen and experienced, and afraid to return to the waterfront in the off-chance he saw that blond crazy bat-girl again. The hunger for interaction overwhelmed him eventually, a gun tucked in the back of his belt and a small can of pepper spray in the front. The gun was for if anything bad happened. The pepper-spray was for that crazy bitch if she dared to let herself be detected by him.

When he entered the club he lost himself quickly in the pulse and heat of the room, shoved by the flow of human bodies, swimming to the bar where there was a soft glow of constant light and he could better scope out the room. It didn't take long for him to forget the blond-haired girl he had met outside so recently. His eyes were on one of the bartenders, a little thing with pale skin and lovely red-brown hair. He was making bedroom eyes at her before he reached the bar.

But how to catch her attention?

"Hey baby, I'm thick and satisfying, if you're available after work," he waggled his brows at her. "You know what I mean."

[Gwylan]

*It had already been a busy evening. Gwylan had been rushing back and forth behind the bar, mixing drinks as quickly as she could. Saturday nights were always hectic, but she didn't mind. Kept her busy. And had this been the old Gwy, being kept busy would be a blessing this day. Today would have been her and Declan's anniversary. But the fae didn't remember. Gwylan had essentially died with her love, an exaggerated caricature had formed in her place. It had taken nearly a year, but after emerging from her apartment for the first time alone, Gwy was a new person. And this person was too busy pouring shots to patrons who really didn't need anymore to worry herself with Declan. She handed him the glass with a smile. Oh well, as long as the boss didn't know. She would often continue to serve the drunk, if anything, the drunk were more fun to play with.*

*She didn't even notice when a new patron entered the scene. She had few seconds of down time to take a quick inventory and shouting to a co-worker what bottles needed restocking. Unscrewing the top to a new bottle, she paused. Gwy could feel someone staring at her. A small smile started to form. This wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Finally, a little fun tonight! The woman turned, and the smile grew. Someone she had never seen before. Being a supernatural herself, she had the full ability to see through the glamour, but she didn't. Gwylan didn't care who or what you were,not for a long time. It's almost as though she had shut off the detection function in her brain.*

*When he spoke, he took no time beating around the bush. Her eyes sparkled with glee, and she couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. And people said chivalry was dead! This was indeed going to be a fun evening. A few of the patrons around the bar laughed at the comment, most in a jovial manner, but there was a single huff from a man in the middle, a plain 'get real' snort of derision. Gwylan ignored them all. She sauntered over to the bar, a playful look of concern on her face.*

You may have to be long gone by then, sweetie. What are you? 18? 19? I'll have to see some ID.

*The look on her face was plain. He could hand her a blank piece of paper at the moment, as long as she could tell the boss he showed her something. He was too entertaining to send away.*

[Ilvyn Daleroth]

Ilvyn rolled his eyes and perhaps Gwylan only saw the perfectly normal white of a human eye or perhaps she saw his eyes turn almost completely black for a moment. Nevertheless he fished in his pocket and brought out an identification card. An attempt was made. The person in the picture perhaps had some resemblance to what his glamour might look like. A long faced fellow of mixed race with tousled carroty orange hair, nothing that matched the deep wine-red of Ilvyn's, but close enough. The man was around twenty-three years and his name was Stephano...Stephano-something, his surname eluded Vyn. Ilvyn had accumulated hundreds of these plastic cards, he was savvy to the human's needs to be able to identify one another, a lesson his cleverer than thou mother taught him.

"I'm not much of a, ah, drinker," Ilvyn told her in a perfectly conversational tone, other than the stutter, an odd speech impediment he had a habit of picking up whenever he was not exaggerating the truth. "I only came here to talk to you, baby." He winked, turning on his horribly cheesy charms. "Look, I don't mean to be annoying and give you my life story. It's just, ever since I came to Boston I haven't been having a very good time."

That was the understatement of the century. Since he arrived in Boston to do mercenary work, being paid to quietly eliminate both people and monsters, the 'mundane' part of his life had turned to shit. He had been threatened but some rich fat cat, had the traumatizing experience of watching people morph into animals, NOT ONCE, but twice, and had failed to capture the interest of the only attractive normal guy that seemed to live around here. The smile that Ilvyn wore was a tired one.

But it was a smile as she seemed to be (at the very least) good humored about his advances. He could use a friend just as much as he could use a fuck-buddy though he would honestly prefer the latter at that moment.

[Gwylan]

* The smile spread slightly as this fellow rolled his eyes at her request. Take it easy, surely you'll have something to show me. When he finally fished out a card, she snatched it out of her hand and gave it a look over. Eyes darted from the picture to the person. Oh, so close, sweetie. She reined in her eyes from such a look however, and instead took on a false look of surprise. Deftly, she spun the card front to back, just gotta double check for any signs of forgery. Once satisfied, she flicked the card back to him.*

Ya check out, Stephano. My bad, I get that a lot too.

*That wasn't a lie in the slightest. Danm, she looked good for eighty by human standards! She was young for an Adhene, but didn't feel the need to be a young human. She had to lie on her papers to make herself seem older. Being a teenager had no fun in it whatsoever. Gwylan reached behind her to grab a glass.*

So, what can I get you?

*Stephano confessed he wasn't much of a drinker. An eyebrow raised as she slowly placed the glass back down. Was that so? Gwy placed a hand on a hip, awaiting an answer. Surely something important must have compelled him to risk coming into a bar with piss poor fake ID and potentially facing a far less lenient employee. A playful smirk returned at his explanation. Of course! It was Gwylan's intense appeal that had drawn a stranger in here. A thought flickered momentarily in her mind, a stranger to her, perhaps, but should she know him? She concentrated on him for a moment. No, he sure didn't seem familiar. And she'd think she'd remember such boldness. Maybe not, but it seemed likely.*

*He moved on to a sad little story. Oh, he was new in town, eh? Well, Gwy should make it a point to make sure he felt welcome! She opened her mouth to say something when a patron at the bar called for service. She looked over to him, then back at Stephano, lifting a finger to temporarily halt the conversation. The woman went back to work, serving the patron that had earlier scoffed at the newcomer's advances. He didn't appear to be the happy drunk, and he rolled his eyes as Gwy continued to speak to Stephano while he poured him another drink.*

Well, Stephano, welcome to Boston! Sorry you haven't had a good time so far. Perhaps, I can help with that...

*She was interrupted. The man she was serving loudly placed the money for the drink on the bar, and shoved it towards her. Obviously, he didn't like being ignored. Gwylan scooped up the money, shoved him his drink, and shot him a glance. When she turned to walk to the cash register, she looked at Stephano and rolled her eyes. Some people, eh? After processing the transaction, she returned to the spot across from the new fellow.*

So, what brings you to our lovely city?

[Ilvyn Daleroth]

Ilvyn waved his hand in a 'no problem' signal as the woman moved to serve her other customers. He was aware that someone nearby seemed upset, maybe jealous, of his advances on the woman, but he avoided making eye contact. That would just be an invitation for trouble and for once he reserved all his attention for the girl.

"Work. I travel a lot," he answered. "I must tell you, there are a lot of strange people in Boston."

He looked up at her and the look was somewhat meaningful, wordlessly questioning if she knew about the paranormal creatures that roamed the streets. Maybe he meant crackheads and bums. It was an innocent enough statement to cover up if she got the wrong idea about what he was saying and that was what he was counting on. Vagueness could go a long way if one wasn't positive what the game being played was called.

"You never told me your name, miss," Vyn pointed out. "Or is it a secret? It would break my poor heart if you were humoring me out of politeness."

Tracing abstract shapes over the shined bar he looked at her with coy innocence. In his head he was already playing the feel of her skin, the smell of her hair, and the thousand different ways he wanted to bed her. Ilvyn was no pure soul, that was for certain, but he wanted their coming together to be a mutual agreement. He wasn't trying to use her. She wasn't a means to an end. She hopefully benefitted from his company as much as he did hers. He might have been in for heartbreak, though.

"What time do you get off?" This question was asked a bit lower, as if to keep her secret from her other customers. "You know…if you're interested."