[u][i]~~~In a restuarant just down the street, roughly eighty yards from Anora's current point of conflict~~~[/i][/u] *Ding-Ding!* Metallic frame collides against rusted bell, an atypical sing-song chime denoting another patron to have entered a place of culinary acquisition. Our relaxed pedestrian had entered his refuge, 'Dino's Italian Eatery'. They were famous for lasagna, but of course, he never arrives here for such a thing. [color=f7941d]"Ah! It's the young man!"[/color] Dino would shout from within the kitchen, his eyes having instantly recognized one highly loyal customer through the rectangular opening into where food is constantly prepared. He rushes from a recently powdered ball of dough, those aged eyes moving to silently order one of many workers into resuming what the master chef had yet to finish. The care-free man anxiously scratched the back of his head, chuckling lightly towards what he saw as one rather hilarious old cogder. [color=f7941d]"It's good to see you my boy!"[/color] Dino embraces the man with carefree enthusiasm, the two of them seeming to know each other well in the eyes of a packed-out dining area. It is true that he was one of the only customers to arrive for nearly a year just as Dino appeared to be headed towards bankruptcy. After said point, Dino slowly but surely found himself to be largely successful for no discernible reason. He attributes it to 'the man with silvery eyes', and surprisingly enough, he wouldn't be entirely wrong. [color=f7941d]"Are you finally going to try my lasagna?!"[/color] Those brown eyes surrounded by care-worn wrinkles are nearly swallowed up by the force of two massive dimples created by years of genuinly joyful smiling. [color=6ecff6]"No, no. I'm here to see a friend. But you know, I could never say no to-"[/color] That soft voice repressed all conflict, it's presence forever something to be treasured and anxiously awaited by those to whom it's grown familiar. [color=f7941d]"-Sausage and pepperoni!-"[/color] Dino would finish the sentence for him, the both of them chuckling amidst another quick hug before the stout chef rushes back to his place in the kitchen. A leathery hand slaps our mans back several times before departure, one of it's five callous fingers waving mischievously about with each step. [color=f7941d]"-I'll get you to try my lasagna one day!"[/color] He shouts, as he did with practically every word. This joy was only to last a short while, one nearby booth having been partially populated by a grey gentlemen. Pinstripes curl against arched elbows, two hands having laced their delicate ligaments just in front of a pale face. The crimson eyes belonging to this body hadn't left our relaxed pedestrians form throughout the aforementioned encounter. The mind behind hig sullen expression would have made no move as to interrupt, he was too classy for any venture of that nature. [color=ed1c24]"You came, that was fast."[/color] Frank tones reach the silver eyes which move to sit across from their reddened counterparts. [color=6ecff6]"You hate fruit sauces."[/color] Equally blatant, yet hardly relevant truths did such a miracle as to push a smirk into the thin lips of the recipient of those words. [color=ed1c24]"True. So I suppose you 'are' who I've been meaning to find."[/color] Once having recovered, the gentlemen continued his subject. [color=6ecff6]"Maybe. But, what's the occasion?"[/color] Ivory iris's once again examine the luxurious exterior of he who sits across from them. [color=ed1c24]"Theft of your most prized possession."[/color] These words sent chills into the air, everyone in the room suddenly growing slightly more quiet than they had before without them realizing as to why such a thing had occurred. [color=6ecff6]"Okay. Your style is still lacking, but you've impressed me so far."[/color] Lively features would laugh lightly, as if all such threats were highly comparable to average interaction. *Clatter!* A flustered woman would drop a plate with two slices of pizza upon their table, her body feeling rushed for reasons she couldn't verbally express to leave the presence of these two ominous men. She knew one of them well, but by queer logic, even he seemed intimidating on this day. [color=6ecff6]"So, what's your plan?" [/color]Warm lips would embrace the first treasured slice after speaking. [color=ed1c24]"You just swallowed it."[/color] After waiting several seconds, and riding on the distraction of flavor, cold tones could again be heard. [color=6ecff6]"You whelp..... Have I been complacent that long?"[/color] A friendly tone turns sour for only the briefest of moments when it's respective body registers what was consumed. This is when all realizations collide. An old being is now to awaken, and even our grey man couldn't understand what this means. It may be true that none are safe, especially considering how effective an unnamed poison will be... It goes without saying, profound, fairytail conflict is here to reawaken. Powers long dormant take their first steps towards materialisation. *Thwop* Sausage and pepperoni pizza lands flatly atop grease-coated plate. Powerful tastes mean nothing to one who's experienced all this world may offer. What feel as needles shoot into the skin of all who dwell inside the restaurant, nearly everyone for roughly one hundred meters would feel panic surround them as a cloud. Hostile lions could be standing before them and it's likely they wouldn't feel quite so scared as they do now. Anora would have some resistance to this. But nevertheless, it's as if some large hand looms over her, power untold rearing it's head upon Earths surface for the first time in the Fifth age. "AHH!" *CRASH!* Screams and crashing vehicles now populate a panicked and chaotic city center. Scenery will change quickly in the next hour or so, should nothing be done to stop the source of this. ---------------------------------------- "GRAAALLLLGH!!!" The ghoul had charged directly into Anora's netted shield. Something about it's offensive appeared reluctant, as if having been commanded against better instinct to inflict this result upon itself. Death-born fluids of various type simmer and dissolve against the girls defense for several seconds before a counterattack is made. During this charge, both previously described snakes had retreated into our ghouls skull. Two small glowing dots filled each eye rather than what typically may be observed as an iris from any other beast or man. Whilst being inflicted heavily with damages such as heavy scorching and turbulent waves of solid wind, one of these two snakes sacrifices itself to lung forward and use it's non-poisonous fangs to slash at Anora's chest. Regrettably, the attack would miss. Still, damage is certain to be inflicted upon her right shoulder whilst the willful strike is pushed away by fear-born energies powering all present defenses. Aside from this, not one hand could have reached the girl through her improvised fortress. The beast would then release it's assault, being flung backwards roughly eight feet by the powers it was once pushing itself towards. The opponent would take hardly a breathe to recover, during which time another ominous feminine chuckle would fill the air. Overall, the Aldit doesn't appear to be severely harmed, all bodily functions still obviously intact aside from one missing 'eye'. [color=39b54a]"Not too shabby, maggot. Perhaps I'll savor you for some time to come."[/color] Just after such words were permitted, the presence of those two men in Dino's would be felt. Though the relevancy of Anora's situation is undiminished, the stimulation it causes may likely push most present convictions aside. A force truly unknown to this point had shown itself, even the sluggish creature across from our young woman had felt this. It froze, backing away slightly, as if in fear... If such a monster could even feel named emotion. Perhaps survival? For Anora, this aura wouldn't appear quite so 'life-threatening'. She would likely feel as if some relative had grown fiercely enraged over current personal circumstance, or that a deeply-connected brother were about to act upon an undeserved rage towards someone she knew but did not entirely care for. She would fear for those involved more-so than herself, something of resonance being felt towards that which projects all of said calamity. She could likely swear she knew what was responsible, even going so far as to say it was a 'who' rather than a 'what'. Something of a cold, silvery outlining to a masculine figure far in the distance could be pictured deep in the recesses of Anora's mind should she focus in on what was engulfing all surrounding life. The being perceived was faint, but the warmness and deep respect for him was unmistakable. He had given her, or someone she knew, something irreplaceable. Safety and fear simultaneously collide, but whether these things were born of Anora personally is likely hard to distinguish in such a turbulent moment as this.