"So nothing major then?" Neil quipped with his easy smile. Despite impending death, he didn't seem too concerned or nervous. Perhaps the old adage of candles burning half as long blaze twice as bright, but then again Neil didn't take such things to heart. He had spent much of his youth listening to older, learned men talk when he wasn't out with his friends, absorbing knowledge like a sponge, without having the proper life experience to give him clarity. It made much of his life a 'fill in the blank' experience. The longer he lived, the more the knowledge he had was connected like lines to dots. Meanwhile, he did his best to bullshit his way through the rest of it. "You know, I'm not really in 'the know' with magic, but I'm assuming you don't mean necromancy and...the whole, becoming a skeleton thing. That sort of problem has plagued people for years, right?" He asked. "I think you'll find I'm quite ambitious," She retorted, a dark twinkle in her eye. The sorceress raised an eyebrow, indicating Neil answer her question. "My big plans?" He asked, pondering her question. It was something he often asked himself. Neil wasn't a long term planner or schemer, at least not in the traditional sense. When he put his mind to plots, he did fairly well if he was honest, but as for his goals? Women did like goal oriented men, after all. He couldn't just say [i]nothing[/i]. "Well I find the establishment of the world to be pretty corrupt and ineffectual in retaining order or providing fairness to anyone, so I suppose my main goal would be to topple the established order and have an enjoyable time doing it. But I don't entirely know how to conceptualize that, you know? You-" He gestured toward her with his hand. "-have a deadliness about you that I couldn't match, so amassing as much money by nefarious means is generally my goal. I'm pretty good at it too, considering they hired you to kill me." Neil turned from her and looked at the setting sun, the barest sliver of red light receding past the buildings across the deep river that cut through the city. Neil knew it was time. He felt it in his gut, even if it was going to be a bit dodgy. At least he could appreciate the little things, like the setting sun. Most people didn't stop to garner what they could out of life, he found. "But I find I like to live moment to moment." He said, and then sighed. He changed his demeanor to show a hint of regret and trepidation, shaking his head and reaching into his jacket to take out the poison Hargond had slipped into his pocket. He could tell she tensed, but when she saw he had a small vial, there was less immediate cause for concern, at least to her own well being. He gave her a smug grin, heroically pushing off his fear of mortality to go out with style. "Speaking of which, this was actually a nicer date than I had anticipated. Usually, when it comes to men, your dick lies to you. But mine told the gods' honest truth this time. It's too bad death has to get in the way." With that, he placed the vial to his lips and downed the tyroxanide like a shot, right before her eyes. Whether she knew what it was or wasn't, he didn't know, so he decided to give her a small explanation. He cleared his throat as the pungent aroma wafted out of the bottle. He placed it on the table with a 'clack.' Breathing in through his nose, he mentally prepared himself, and then laughed at his own fear. "So, to save you the trouble, I just drank some poison. Now, I know what you're thinking. How can you trust me to know it was poison? You'll have to get your hands dirty yourself, even if it has to be in front of all these people. But don't worry, just play along, and you'll have no blood on your hands and I'll be dead." Neil tentatively grabbed the steak knife, and only when he held the knife was it evident he was shaking lightly. His eyes locked with the blade, and he gave a long sigh one final time. "You know, I've used knives to get my way a few times in my life. This is the first time they're betraying that trust." He lamented, and then he slit his wrist, giving a small yelp as the blade sank deep into his skin. Neil shuddered, swallowing and trying not to make a scene. Oddly, his eyes met the gaze of one of the waiters who happened to look over, and when Neil realized he didn't understand what was happening, Neil sliced his other wrist without breaking eye contact. The waiter dropped his plate, shattering a full course meal for a gathering of local merchants and gasped, before giving a horrified, primal screaming. Neil closed his eyes at this point, leaning on his forearms as the blood began to seep out of his veins and onto his trousers, dribbling on the floor. He really hoped he wasn't making a mistake, and his life began to flash before his eyes. Playing in his aunt's garden, doing uncouth things with his friends, listening to his father speak to he and his sisters, and seeing his grandfather on his own deathbed. "It hurts," was all he could say, opening his eyes to look at Calliope one final time, and it was his final words. He closed his eyes again and slumped against the table, fading into the cold oblivion of death.