[sup][@ProxyInc] and [@Dark Cloud ] and the delayed post[/sup]

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<< [u]Alcohol[s]ic[/s] Establishment[/u] >> [i]The Game is Afoot![/i]

As Ophelia, "Wench" leaned over her shoulder to gauge the wild haired man's interpretation -- she would likely come to a startle. Why? Because in reaction, he had turned his head to face her, eyes... well his eyelids were drooped a bit. Still, it was a reaction time both impressive and excessive, as though he couldn't let someone face him without staring them down. Inappropriate spacing, inappropriate boundaries -- and yet none of that seemed to phase the already drunken man wearing his snake embroidered clothing. 

Drank fast.. and drunk fast. A lightweight.

His words came out without slurring, pompous tone melting away to an unusually open hearty gravel in the words that flowed out of him: "[color=f7941d][b]Of course cards can predict the future. Only an imbecile would doubt the capabilities of magic. That's not important. Listen. You're armed. I'm going to level with you.[/b][/color]" Squinting just a moment to regain his focus, as though [i]Washed Up[/i] wasn't there and it was only the two of them alone in this little tavern, his teeth and tongue moved independent of each other with such articulation: "[color=f7941d][b]I'm pretty sure the owners of this establishment were murdered, and that we are in a different space and time than where we began. The two may or may not be related. That's not important. What [u]is[/u], is we need to shake the place down. There's no way this old man would be allowed to do half of what he's done otherwise. It's simple deduction. Look at him.[/b][/color]"

Right hand gesturing erratically at Krin, his left defiantly pointed at the floor to punctuate his statements while his voice momentarily traced off before regaining strength. "[color=f7941d]Two feet in the grave. Pitiful, I'll deal with [b][i]that[/i] later. Soon more'll realize it's free reign here and then it'll be anarchy. Got to crush the dissidents while they don't know we know. Deal those future telling cards, that'll give us quite an advantage in our approach.[/b][/color]" His breath besides the burn of alcohol laced within was hot yet, of one whom had upper echelon hygiene for his region at least. 

Striking while the iron was hot, it was a stroke of pure luck that the street urchin harlot was in fact a prophet with diving cards. He didn't expect that. But it was quite opportune. If she could give him the drop on these... what would they even be. Thieves? No, to call them thieves implies theft is the primary goal when clearly they desire to use this establishment as honey for springing the trap; these [i]monsters[/i], then she was of paramount use. And the old beast could, while clearly a racial supremacist that needed to be beaten to a pulp, redeem himself via becoming a meat wall for imminent harm. Fortuitous for them all. It wasn't often you got a chance to redeem your honor like that!

But if it was the opposite. If she was perhaps a [i]manipulator[/i] of fate, a participant in this dark affair.. then Omi had them both right where he wanted them. 

Soon. 

Either way, all too soon, it'd be time to gorge himself on blood until he vomited. Metaphorically of course, he was still cross the faux bartending thief didn't search the back for baked goods and pastries.