[h1][i][color=gray][center]Chase Bloodcrest[/center][/color][/i][/h1][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/293467516372779010/360944746409099267/IMG_20170923_012730.JPG[/img][/center][center]~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~[/center] [hr][hr][center][h1][color=black]C[/color][color=darkgray]hapte[/color][color=black]r[/color][color=darkgray]2[/color][/h1][center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/293467516372779010/361638756580720640/IMG_20170924_232509.JPG[/img][/center][/center][hr][hr] [color=cccccc]As always, the tavern was bustling with drinkers, some seemed to fancy themselves as master storytellers, discussion would follow and argument at heat swiftly dissolving into laughter. Barmaids were hard pressed to keep the ale flowing or, more precisely, dashing around and trying to keep everyone's tankard full while wenches perused at tables and sat on laps, whispered into ears, giggled at the drunken, stupid jokes. Heat in [color=black][b]Mystic Grimoire[/b][/color] was terrible and almost overwhelming: the airlessness, the hustle and the insufferable stench completed the revolting misery of the picture. An expression of the profoundest disgust gleamed for a moment in the young man’s refined face. He wasn't a particularly public person to begin with, hence, he avoided society of every sort, more especially of late. The male kept himself to himself and was always on his own, trying to look just like any sort of shady fellow that might step foot in this tavern, yet he was so much more. There was something about him, something of self-containment and strength, of intelligence and power. Few knew his bloodline, and even fewer knew where he truly came from. But all of it understated, quiet, kept beneath the surface. He did not seem to care about others nor tried to either intimidate or impress, never tried to make conversation, just kept his thoughts to himself. But something new seemed to be taking place within him, only for a moment, in some other world, whatever it might be; and, in spite of the filthiness of the surroundings, this tavern seemed to be the right place. [i]Drinking himself blind seemed like the next logical step.[/i] Soon the bartender slammed ale-filled pewter mug down on the counter, some of the contents splashing out and onto the wooden surface. ''[color=white]Your drink, Bloodsucker.[/color]" he said after a moment, and although his tone was not necessarily rude, his demeanor was distinctly unfriendly. [i]Bloody werewolf[/i], an irritation that made him want to spit. Chase flipped his lids up to him— his blue eyes emitted a poisonous light that was a potential promise of death. Oh, how lovely it will be to show the dog's front teeth the joy of liberation. However, the fast ideas are far too fast, and there are far too many; overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. [i]Don't be reckless[/i], first rule in this fucked-up fruit salad we call life. With a careless lift of shoulders, he raised the mug to his lips and drank deep, letting the ale wash all his senses, overstepping every other consideration. [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/293467516372779010/361633951938248704/IMG_20170924_230437.JPG[/img][/center]A helpless darkness settled on his face: through the chamber of his brain— Quaintest thoughts — queerest fancies came to life. Spinning round and round, one step farther than he intended... [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/293467516372779010/361632612160372738/IMG_20170924_230045.JPG[/img][/center] The final truth came to him, as he stared there, trembling, searching, between all his past and future. When memories intoxicate the mind, it is difficult for the soul to remain sober... [center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/293467516372779010/361635404861931522/IMG_20170924_231148.JPG[/img] [/center] For some particular reason, he felt his breath catch an intoxicating scent, interrupting his train of thoughts. In maddening sense it coiled itself around his tongue he could actually taste it; tantalizing flowery lavender— [i]sensual, mysterious, caressing...[/i] Fo curiosity has its own reason for existing, a fire to be kindled, Chase turned around. Across the pub, in the very farthest, most secluded corner, sat two shady figures, both had their hoods up over their faces, and were sitting very still, like cloaked statues. The scent belonged to the young woman, as far as he could tell, and for a split second his focus sharpened around her; the surroundings seem blurred, faded and unimportant. Something, something scraped like tiny fingernails on the edges of his mind—that unified scent was strong, magnified and he savoured the thought of seeing her shadowy figure... [center] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/293467516372779010/361640843641225216/IMG_20170924_233333.JPG[/img][/center] Yes, that was it, completely out of fricking character. God, at these moments he became well aware that his thoughts were in a strange tangle: women should have been the last thing on his mind, especially in this filthy pit. Some confusion still resonated within the depths of his mind, and he snapped to attention once he realized he was no longer looking at her in particular, but rather, raucous noises from behind and rowdy collection of curses broke the hot air of the tavern from behind, swiftly heightening his senses. Following the obstreperous source, he saw one of the drunken patrons aim his heavy tankard for someone's head, the mug whistled past the target's ear... ... and hit another man behind him [b]instead![/b] Before one could differentiate the maliciously deemed action from that as a slight mishap, the bar patron had wobbled to a stand. His fat legs were stubby, looking as if he could barely hold his grotesque body upright whilst swiveling to face the male whom the cup had been tossed, a chubby finger prominently pointed in accusation. Whilst he appeared rather unthreatening in size, nothing but a mixture of drunken anger filled the man's ugly eyes; the look, almost as if a deadly disease, swiftly filling the blank stares of worthless patrons entertaining themselves at the public tavern. Shouts began to raise to high hell, curses being thrown and objects being tossed just as swiftly. Barbaric was the only word to describe those now embarrassing themselves within the small establishment, if not the general words of disgust to accompany it. Between the screams of slurred threats and howls of pain, the two men were able to meet gaze for a short moment. Another thing Chase learned about [color=black][b]Mystic Grimoire[/b][/color] tavern, you always expect a barroom brawl or two.[/color]