The bar became silent in seconds.
That was strange. This bar was never quiet. Not when every table and seat was filled, not when it was rush hour on the weekend. No… it shouldn't be quiet, not today. Yet… it was. It was a rare and strange occurrence, but it didn't take Orah long to figure out why.
Perhaps it was the muttered words of fear, or the uneasy looks that were sent to the door that made him conclude why the bar had gone so quiet. Or perhaps it was his own senses, a feeling of malice and fear that he knew only happened when he came around.
Whatever the case was… Orah knew it was Aleson that brought the aura of ill intent. And for what seemed to be the first time ever, Orah began to shake in fear. He knew why Aleson was here, the only reason Aleson could be here.
Aleson didn't drink. He didn't party. He certainly didn't come into Orah's bar to give him a donation, or speak on friendly terms. He could only be here for one reason. And Orah wasn't sure he liked that reason.
However Orah didn't want to show fear. He placed his hands on the bar counter, leaning on it, trying to steady himself. It worked, but only slightly. He could still feel his muscles tense and shake worse and worse with every step Aleson took towards him.
Orah wasn't the only fearful one in the bar, it seemed. As soon as the tall Don passed them, bar patrons – the ones that weren't frozen in fear – stood and quickly scrambled out of the door, wanting away from what could only be bad news.
That frustrated Orah. He watched as the people, and every dollar in their pocket, left the bar. He watched all the money he could have earned on one of the busiest nights of the week flood out of the door. And he couldn't grasp for it, couldn't call them back. All he could do is watch.
None of that mattered when Aleson reached the bar. He stopped. He stared. And he was silent. So silent… it was so thick, Orah was sure he could cut the tense air with a knife. Though even if he could, he didn't dare move. He stared into those piercing eyes of Aleson's; it wasn't out of bravery, but because he couldn't tear his eyes away.
"Bar's closed." Aleson's voice was deep, smooth. It was a low, warning tone, almost too low to hear – but everyone heard it. Or else they felt it. Because in mere minutes, the bar was empty, leaving only Aleson and Orah.
Aleson was still silent, just staring at Orah. Finally, Orah tore his eyes away. He cleared his throat. He didn't want to speak, but he equally didn't want to just sit in silence. It's like a band-aid, he thought. Just gotta rip it off…
"Do you need something, Aleson?" he asked meekly, still avoiding eye contact.
He barely finished his sentence though. Aleson didn't move, yet Orah's head was slammed on the counter in seconds. Aleson's hands were behind his back, as they had been for a while. It was a new hand that slammed his head onto the counter, and a new hand that held his hands behind his back. Disembodied hands.
"Would you like to retry that, Orah?"
"Don Aleson, Don Aleson! Mercy, please," Orah begged, the wind knocked out of him in shock.
Aleson leaned down a little, until his mouth was near Orah's ear. He was almost pleased that he could hear Orah's heart beating fast, hear his rugged, gasping breath. He would be… if he weren't so pissed.
"You have ten minutes to get the fuck out of my town. If you dare even think you can step into Valcad again, you will be sorely mistaken. Do you understand me, Orah?"
"Yes, yes Don Aleson – please, please," Orah whispered quietly, shaking like a leaf.
Aleson released a little. Orah let out a sigh of relief – but it was quickly taken back. The hand that held his arms didn't move, but the one that held his head did. Now it was one his neck, holding him up. Aleson stared into his eyes, seeing the complete fear.
"What did I do? Why are you here?" Orah whispered, still shaking.
"You're working with Amer, aren't you, Orah? I know what he is like. Trust me, I do. I may not know every detail. But I do know one thing… if you dare set foot in my town again, Orah, you will die an awfully slow and painful death."
Orah nodded quickly. He knew this wasn't an empty promise, nor just a threat. "I understand, Don Aleson."
Aleson clenched his jaw a little. He felt anger building in him. And soon, a purple smoke began to pour from his eye. It was slow, at first, and virtually invisible. Quickly, though, it became very visible. And the fear in Orah's face grew as he saw this.
Then he snapped. Aleson punched Orah in the nose, hard. There was a loud crack. The hands vanished as he did this, and Orah fell to the ground, holding his nose. Blood immediately began to gush.
"Two minutes, Orah. Get the fuck out of my town."
Silas finished playing a song on the piano, standing up. He was definitely ready for his break. He approached the bar, sitting in the empty seat next to Aarav. He sighed quietly.
"Tired?" Aarav asked, raising an eyebrow. Silas nodded, glancing at him. He frowned a little. Reaching forward, he went to touch the light bruise on Aarav's face. Quickly, Aarav jerked away.
"Don't touch it," he hissed.
"Does it hurt?"
"It does when you touch it!"
Silas rolled his eyes, looking away. He glanced at the bartender. Realizing the bartender was looking back, he smiled politely. Now, with no other costumer to tend to, the bartender walked over. He leaned on the counter, still looking at Silas.
"Evening," the bartender greeted, smiling. "I enjoyed your music."
Silas nodded his thanks quietly. Now the bartender glanced at Aarav, a bit confused.
"Is this your friend? I haven't seen him around lately, not with you…."
"I had business to deal with in other places," Aarav lied, raising his chin a little. Silas smiled gently, leaning on the counter a bit. Aarav could say anything, and no one would question him, would they? He shook his head gently, looking away.
"You seem… familiar," the bartender said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Aarav.
"I doubt you know me," Aarav said as he glanced away. That was true, of course; not many knew the dead man, especially since he had died over ten years ago. The bartender gave a short hum, standing straight. He seemed to dismiss the matter, turning away as another person called for a drink.
Silas looked at Aarav quietly for a moment. For a while, Aarav pretended not to notice, sipping the drink he had ordered while Silas was working. Now, as Silas had not looked away, Aarav looked back at him, confused.
"Aar… you died, right?" he asked. Aarav stared at him, clearly tensing.
"Odd question, Silas," he said, looking away. There was a warning tone in his voice; a warning tone that told Silas to back down. He didn't, of course.
"You never speak about your life before… what was it like? Did you have siblings?"
"Silas," Aarav hissed quietly, hoping he would get the message and shut up.
"How did you die?" Silas asked. He had almost expected Aarav to get angry, or ignore him. He didn't get angry, though… He went still, silent. His eyes got a bit cloudy, as if he were somewhere else in his thoughts. He slowly lowered his head to stare at the counter, lost in thought.
"Overdoes," he said, voice barely a whisper.
"Drugs…? But… you hate drugs…?" Silas asked slowly. Aarav took a deep breath before clearing his throat. He looked away, hiding… did he have tears in his eyes? Oh, no, did I hurt him? Silas thought, upset with himself.
"Si, I… I don't want to talk about it right now, ok? I just… can we just… talk about something else?" he asked weakly. Silas took a deep breath, feeling bad for hurting his friend. He nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry," he said gently.
Silas was too busy playing the piano to notice Ruk nor the out-of-place blue-haired man that stepped into the bar with him. Aarav noticed, though. And his pleasant expression dropped to a frown immediately upon seeing them. He studied the man that entered with Ruk now.
He had bright blue hair, and wore a yellow shirt. Over this was a single strap of a suspender; the other strap sat unused at his side. His pants, like the suspenders, was a bright red color. He seemed very out of place. So what were the two doing here?
The bar was quite empty, though it was not late at night. It wasn't as popular as the others, but the pay was alright, so it was good work, as far as Aarav and Silas were concerned. There were only about ten people in the bar, including the staff.
Ruk leaned against the doorframe now, a smug smile on his face as he watched Silas. The blue-haired man was looking around. He then glanced at Ruk, about to say something. From the looks of it, though, Ruk cut him off, gesturing to Silas. The man looked at Silas, curious and a bit confused.
Then the blue-haired man's eyes shifted to Aarav. It was as if he felt eyes on him. He smiled, waving in a friendly manner. Aarav narrowed his eyes, giving the man quite a mean face. The man didn't seem to notice, turning back to talk to Ruk.
Aarav barely noticed Silas return to him. Silas plopped into the seat with a sigh. He stretched before resting his arms on the counter, then his head on his arms. He closed his eyes a moment. He was very tired, even though it wasn't extremely late.
Now, Silas glanced at Aarav, confused as to why he wasn't talking. He followed Aarav's hateful glare, noticing the two in the doorway. Ruk had followed Silas' movements with his eyes, still staring. Silas flushed a bit, feeling his cheeks heat up.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Silas hissed quietly, looking away. Aarav shrugged, sipping his drink. He still looked at the two over the glass, eyes narrow in suspicion. "I've worked enough – can we just go home?"
Aarav glanced at Silas now. "Don't miss payment again. You don't want… whatever that was… to happen again," he muttered.
Silas frowned, wrinkling his nose. He still didn't know how Ruk had gotten the money still, and quite frankly, he didn't want to know. He took a deep breath before standing. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped quickly.
"Goin somewhere, doll?" an amused voice asked him. It made the hairs on Silas' neck stand up immediately. He spun around, seeing Ruk's smirking face. Next to him was a new man, one that Silas hadn't noticed earlier.
"Yes, we are," Aarav said lowly, standing. Ruk didn't even acknowledge him.
"Well, you should stay! Will make my work more entertaining," he said cheerily, pushing Silas gently back onto his chair. Aarav went to shove him away, bur Ruk grabbed his arm before he could. He gave Silas a small smirk before looking at Aarav's arm. Pushing up the sleeve of Aarav's hoodie, he studied his arm, twisting it a bit. He hummed, a bit of smoke pooling at his eyes.
"You know, it's the magic from the bite that made you visible – if you haven't noticed. However my magic will wear off soon…." Aarav tensed as Ruk looked into his eyes. They were so… dark. So very dark. The red smoke didn't do much to make him look too kind either. "Perhaps I should help you out with that?"
"Ruk, knock that off!" a new voice came. Silas glanced over, realizing it was the blue-haired man. Quickly, Ruk's eyes became less dark, and the smoke vanished. He smiled a fake, warning smile at Aarav before releasing his arm and stepping back. "We're here to work, not to scare strangers."
"Strangers? Oh, no, no – Tops, these are my good friends… err… right, they haven't told me their names. However, I can assure you, we are good friends," he said, smiling a smug smile. Tops raised his eyebrows. Oh, lords, Silas thought, an actually sane person?
"They don't look like friends, Kuruk," Tops said slowly, eying Silas. Ruk scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"In fact, barmaid here and I just went on our first date," he said cheerily. Tops eyes widened in surprise. Silas quickly waved his hands, face reddening madly.
"No, no," he said, his voice a bit high-pitched. "I – I was just, just helping, uhm…."
"Don't worry," Tops said gently to Silas. "Ruk had never been particularly good with dating."
Now Ruk flushed in embarrassment. He scoffed, looking away. He muttered a small "like you have". Tops simply raised his eyebrows at Ruk, as if challenging him to repeat it. Ruk did not, in fact, repeat himself. Aarav was beginning to enjoy this.
"Anyway," Tops sighed out, getting closer to the counter. He leaned on it, smiling brightly at the bartender that entered from a backroom. "Hello! We are here to repair…" he paused, looking around, before shrugging. "All of this."
"Repair…? No, we didn't order a repair man."
"Mhm!" Tops nodded a few times. The bartender paused, looking around a moment.
"We – we can't afford to pay you?" he said, unsure what was happening.
"Well, obviously," Tops said, standing straight as he looked around again. "Have you seen this place? Anyway – it's a good thing we're doin it for free! My pal here is helping, of course." He wrapped an arm around Ruk's shoulders, causing Ruk to grunt.
"Ruk… working?" Aarav asked, sounding baffled. Ruk shot him a small glare.
"I know! Shocking!" Tops grinned.