[@Wraithblade6][@RavenTLark]
Bob chuckles, as he takes a wine goblet filled with a deep scarlet liquid from behind the counter. The scent of it seems to instantly fill the area, overpowering all other scents. The thick coppery tang of blood, as high quality as anything else Bob conjured. It was a mixture of different types, quite probably from 3 different sources. Each had been selected by experts to form a complementary combination of tastes, and preserved through magic. Some of the finest vintage blood from the Cour des Nuit, in France. Of course, Bob kept it just an inch outside of Mithias' reach. "Now, I understand that you and your friend have gone through quite an adventure. And of course I have seen the effects of it. I'm afraid the cage that holds Omega is weakening as we speak."

She leans in close, smiling brightly as she places both slender hands on the table. And yet, Mithias feels like the temperature just went down three degrees, and the light dimmed just a little. As if he was standing in Bob's shadow. "In particular, a certain person we both know has run away from home, much like your friend Raven here. And much like your friend Raven here, she now finds herself in mortal danger." The table seems to be cracking under some unknown strain, the very room seeming to shrink for a moment. As if it were a massive maw, about to devour those foolish souls that would tread between it's teeth.

Bob steps back, as the room returns to it's normal state. "Of course, things will probably end up just fine. Everything can happen, and we can't hold ourselves responsible for everything, can we? Esspecially not when one is so amazingly incompetent." She sits back on the table, the glass of blood in her hand as she looks at the pair before her. "Now, I'm sure both of you are just bursting with things you want to tell me. If you don't hurry up, you might just explode from the pressure. It's a good thing I'm magical, or it would take me ages to clean the gore from my lovely little establishment."