• Touching Fire •

[De'Ryanna Aybara]

She didn’t know what time it was, only that it was late enough that everyone else in the Inn was asleep. Or maybe it was early enough in the pre-dawn hours that some were getting ready to start their day? For De’Ryanna, this day and the coming one may as well be continuous – even though her body was feeling the strain of exhaustion she couldn’t bring herself to go to sleep. To many thoughts and too many unexpressed feelings were pressing down upon her and pulling at her lungs that closing her eyes to sleep only brought them to the surface.

Perhaps…perhaps if she were to stay up a bit longer…perhaps then she would simply pass out and the thoughts and feelings wouldn’t be strong enough to break through to wake her. Perhaps.

For now Ryanna was curled up on the couch in the bar area, she was cuddled up to a pillow that was trapped between her arms and head; and a brown cotton throw covered her from the waist down. It was after hours and as such the lights in the area had been dimmed, the main luminance coming from the fireplace where the flames crackled and danced in the hearth. Over the past couple of weeks she had been spending more time in this area than she had in a while. It was her attempt at being more social, breaking out, her want to satisfy the need for interaction and belonging.

In a way it worked, manning the bar area with Gwendolyn the two of them had met some interesting people: some she was glad to see return and others who they could do without, but it was all interaction. Ryanna did what she typically does best and that’s keep most people at the end of a cold and sarcastic stick, but that stick wasn’t as cold as it use to be and she could feel things shifting inside of her in relation to her dealings with people and it was that, that scared her. Acting as she did kept people from dealing with her on a more personal scale but recently? Recently people were pushing at her and she found herself wanting to be accepted and wanting to know more about them instead of acting like they didn’t matter.

What was worse is that she found herself wanting physical contact but fearing for it at the same time. For all her life she had shied away and been restricted from touching others and having the same returned, but now things had changed and she was free to place her hands upon others and not have anything happen. She brushed hands with a couple people recently - one of them for longer than a brief moment - and all was well. Even those touches, though slight, were enough to make her want more.

She didn't trust herself - or she didn't trust them - to not not want a deeper touch.

There had only been two that she freely touched and the last one, the man she chose as her Warder…. Thinking of him had her holding that pillow tighter still as the thought brought the memory of his touch to her skin.

Shutting her eyes against the memory she opened them a moment later and looked right into the fireplace flames. The fire was lovely, lovely and unable to be touched by normal means.

[Sacher Masoch]

Somewhere, off in the distance, a young man was enjoying his last meal of the evening. Or in this case, the morning. He was walking along, enjoying the crisp air, with not a care in the world. He had been given an assignment, with specific instructions, and he was following them to the letter. Go and stake out the area, find out what goes on in life, and don't kill any humanoids or draw attention to yourself. OK, so maybe he wasn't following them to the letter. He had already drawn attention to himself once. But how could he resist such a succulent piece of lycanthrope flesh? He presumed she was Lycan as she seemed no ordinary shape shifter. No, she was of a higher class than that. And no man could resist her, especially one the likes of Sacher Masoch. But she still drew breath, though it might have been an angry breath. And it was thoughts of her that plagued his mind this morn.

Tossing aside the limp body of yet another little white fluffy bunny rabbit, he moved towards what he thought to be her location. It had been her location on a previous night, so why would it not be so again? But even if it hadn't been such, at least upon seeing the place his memories of her would grow in strength. He sought to feel of her flesh again, so warm and inviting. To smell the perfume of her scent as it filled his nose. Though he would never dare try to own such a magnificent beast, for to do so would be to tame her. And that was something Sacher simply refused to do.

Footsteps so soft they might as well not even be made, moved him towards his destination. There was a fire burning in the fireplace, as was made evident by the smoke billowing from the chimney. And there was a scent upon that smoke, one that he knew well. She was there. Curses be to his sire for not sharing with him the one gift he could most use at this moment. He, unlike his sire and several of her creations, was not a shape shifter. He had no other form than this one. But what a form it was to be trapped in. He ran his hands over the bare flesh of his arms, his vanity was showing. It caused him to take note of his tattoo and its fading. Time for another touch up.

Upon his torso was a vest of brown suede. It was left unbuttoned and hung freely from his well defined chest. His hands traveled down said chest and down the perfection of his washboard abs. Which led to the slightly loose fitted blue jeans he wore. Belted to stay sitting upon his hips, the waist of his black boxer shorts showing above the jeans. Following down the legs of his jeans, eyes would fall upon his black pointed toe 'cowboy' boots. Complete with their little gold decoration upon the tips of the toes and just above the heels. A hat would have some calling him a cowboy, but he wore no such adornment. He simply wore the boots out of comfort and appearance. And the vest was there simply because he felt he should put something on.

He had a very apt sense of smell, even if he had no beast form for which to explain it. And he could smell so many within the Inn. Some were more noticeable than others. Some he made note of for future reference. Others were simply filed away as simply being. He found some that could become fun to play with, and perhaps he would get his chance later. After all, he was not going to try to own his furry little Angel, and she would not do so to him either, presumably. And some of the scents that he could pick up were quite intriguing. He had been within the Inn once before, but he had become instantly distracted. This time, as his footsteps carried him nearer, he had time to soak up the ambiance.

He had no beast, and no way to mask his scent. So he presumed she would either smell him already, or as soon as he walked in. The one thing he had going for him was speed. He was fast, a close second to another of his sires creations. Her only female creation and she had to be the fastest of any of them. But he held no grudge, for he was fast enough. His previous visit made him aware of the layout within the walls of the Inn. Enough for his desired task at least. So as he stood at the base of the steps that lead up onto the porch, that lead into the building, he smiled and shook his head.

It was pure presumption on his part, that given her scent was blended in the smoke, that it meant she was in a close proximity to the fire. He would only have partial seconds to react if it were someone else there. But he was confident, if not conceited, and in the blink of an eye he moved.

Before the door could even close that lead from outside to within the Inn, he was beside that couch near the fire. And low and behold, upon said couch was his furry little Angel. "Beautiful night for a fire my lovely little furry Angel." And he stood at the end of the couch, ready to move in a flash if her legs were to kick out at him. He was no fool, he knew she would be less than happy to see his smiling face again. "Oh, forgive me, we are not in the bedroom. De'Ryanna." Her name rolled off his flawless lips like hot butter being poured from a dish. His accent held a hint of French to it, mixed with some Romanian. But both were barely noticeable as he had spent enough time away from both places over his lifetime to have shed the majority of the accent.

He had been poised to move, so if a kick came, he would do so. Otherwise, slow movements would bring him to kneel down on the floor at her side, where he could better gaze upon the loveliness of her face. No attempt was made to touch her, yet. He was simply there at the moment. He wouldn't even bother to look about the room to check for others, they could be there, they could not. Sacher did not care either way. He would only acknowledge another if they addressed him directly. For this moment of his time belonged to De'Ryanna.

[Armandeus]

"An automated breakfast maker! What will they think of next?" Armandeus chuckled to himself softly as he emerged from the lounge, slipping towards the kitchen like a shadow in the night.

While it was true that nearly everyone else inside the Inn was asleep the elven chef was not. A lifelong insomniac, the elf was up around this hour, and sometimes earlier, practically everyday. Just like everyday, the few remaining hours left before he could begin preparations for breakfast were filled with some quality time with the giant talking box in the lounge.

Unfortunately on this morning the quality time had lasted right up until it was time for commercials to start playing for that was about the time his stomach decided to point out that he had skipped dinner the evening before hand and it wasn't happy about it. On a normal day this would not have bothered Armandeus - and went ignored until he fixed his own breakfast, but he had made a promise that he would stop doing things like this. So, feeling a mixed combination of hunger and guilt, the elf had been heading out towards the kitchen for an early morning snack when he spotted a man standing at the edge of the couch.

He was too far to pick up the man's words, but he could see him speak and Armandeus frowned, wondering if the man was simply speaking to empty furniture or if someone actually was there. He had not noticed anyone there when he had came downstairs earlier, but the couch did not face the staircase, and he had no need to go around it and see. So now, curiosity peaked, the elf headed towards the man standing there. "Can I help you sir? We do not open for quite a few hours yet but I can help with anything you may need."

[De'Ryanna Aybara]

Watching a fire could be intoxicating, not to mention mesmerizing. The flames flickered and danced and whispered delicious words to pull in the subconscious. As it was her want to block out the things that were troubling her the fire could be - and was being - very effective. In spite of it, this did not mean that she had fully shut off her other senses. When the door opened and the male entered into the Inn she was aware of his presence the same way someone was aware of person talking to them from the other end of a tunnel.

And she chose to ignore him for as long as she possibly could for she knew who it was and he was right in thinking that she was less than pleased. Why did he have to appear now? Why now when she was in this mindset and in an almost prone position upon the couch? It seemed convenient and that the element of Fate and the Wheel was looking at this all as a great joke, with her as the punchline.

The fire did it's best to engulf all of her attention as it had before but knew that it's efforts were in vain when De'Ryanna's eyes flickered to the end of the couch where Sacher first stopped. The fire huffed with a puffed that made the room grow brighter for a moment and then it settled down to crackling almost timidly in the hearth. The sudden fluctuation was linked to the female on the couch because, when she saw who it was, had taken a hold of the Source almost unconsciously.

Her already heightened senses got a boost and she both heard and felt the movements he made as he came closer. De'Ryanna didn't move a muscle, staying still under that throw that was over her lower half. She was glad that she was very decently covered, otherwise the action of the fire may have been directed towards him.

It may still be, who could be for sure, for his name for her was infuriating.

When Sacher knelt down besides her he had put himself in her vision and she couldn't easily ignore him anymore unless she closed her eyes, and that was not an option. Just as she was about to send a handful of bitter words his way she caught the sound and scent of another. Glaring at Sacher with ice cold eyes she pushed herself up from her laid position as Armandeus was finishing talking and turned her head to him.

"Armandeus," she could have been in the worst of moods but she was every grateful to see him at the moment and the musical quality of her voice when she said the elf's name reflected this fact. "I do believe that he... was leaving."

No doubt as to who the 'he' was as her head had turned back to Sacher, a singular brow arched almost to challenge what she had said about him leaving.

[Sacher Masoch]

Sacher took notice of the fire as it blazed in the fireplace, and saw how it seemed to get angry for a moment. He narrowed his eyes as he had a passing thought that she had had something to do with that. He remembered her doing something to them on his last visit that had him falling to the ground outside somewhere. He was beginning to wonder if she was a witch as well as a Lycan. It wasn't unheard of for beings who were more than mere human to be witches as well. He knew a vampire who was also a witch. But he chose not to dwell on thoughts of her. Not when he had De'Ryanna right there in front of him and she was so much more pleasant to think about.

Sacher had heard the footsteps of the other as well. And had risen to a standing position just as the man entered the room. Seeing the man enter and hearing him begin to speak caused Sacher to examine him a little better. The room was dimly lit, so it was hard to tell, but did he have green hair? It looked that way to Sacher. He couldn't quite make out the color of his eyes in the flickering light of the fire, but he didn't think they were brown or blue, or even green for that matter. And he couldn't quite see clearly, but, was this another elf? Not the same elf from the other night when he was here. But he was pretty sure this was another elf. He had been seeing a lot of elves lately. Well, more than he ever thought he could see in his life.

So it was time for some of that old Sacher charm to come out. He wondered how much this would shock De'Ryanna. He gave a sweeping bow to the man. "Good morn to you sir. Please forgive my early visit. I am a night owl. I came merely to bask in the beauty that is the lovely Miss De'Ryanna. Though, if it were not too much trouble, a glass of blood wine would surely hit he spot." He smiled at the man. Elf. Man. That was what they normally served in such places, right? Though, he knew for a fact that at least the other night, there was no wine in his glass. But that could have been something that only De'Ryanna knew about. Besides, he didn't want to disgust the man.

De'Ryanna's words cut through the air like a blade through butter. He snapped his head towards her and smiled wickedly. "Oh on the contrary. I do not need to rush off so quickly." He spun around and sat beside her on the couch. In the space that had once held her upper body. "I still have time to visit with you." He winked at her then. A look to the man who had spoken to him as he yawned and stretched his arms over his head. He had a devilish grin upon his face when he began to lower his arms and the one nearest De'Ryanna was coming down in a way that would land it across her shoulders.

It was a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Sacher chose to continuously dance upon this line. After all, how else was a man to find satisfaction when it was pain that brought him pleasure? Both his own, and that of others. And this was the very reason that Sacher now sat beside De'Ryanna and, unless hindered in some way by the actions of her or the other in the room, was about to put his arm around her shoulders. He was pretty sure that he was about to experience some sort of pain. And the thought of such pain was making him quite happy indeed. He wondered for a moment if De'Ryanna remembered the last time she had made him happy.

[Armandeus]

Armandeus had nearly reached the couch when the fire suddenly puffed up and allowed him to see that his original assumption of the man speaking to the empty furniture was wrong; there was someone laying on the couch after all. Interesting. Now wondering why the person on the couch hadn't seemed to have spoken, the elf had been just about to ask if there was a problem when the musical sound of De'Ryanna saying his name broke in and silenced him.

Ah, but he loved the way she was able to speak his name like that, even if this time he detected the hint of a tone that suggested she wasn't in the best of moods underneath the audible relief. The enjoyment lasted only a moment before the rest of her words caught up to him and he turned his attention to the man.

Meet Armandeus, the chef and part-time bodyguard. Now that they were up close to one another the man would be able to see that, yes indeed Armandeus was an elf. There was simply no mistaking the way his ears stuck out from his head, even in the dimness of the light. As for the eye color of this elf, it was not blue, nor brown, nor even green but rather a striking purple.

The elven cook was a rarity among rare creatures but at the moment those purple eyes were narrowed as he heard the man's words. "I believe the lady said you were on your way out." A quick glance was spared back in De'Ryanna's direction before he went on. "If you wish a drink then you will have to move to the bar area."

[De'Ryanna Aybara]

The very fact that she did remember was the reason why the only actions she made in regards to Sacher's actions and words was a roll of her eyes as she stood up and moved away. He could enjoy the couch and the fire by himself. Alone. He could 'bask' from the other side of the room. The last time - which happened to be the first time she met him and acquired this irate attitude towards him - her forceful actions had only made him laugh and that she even had to use the Source to get him to leave her alone . . . There would be no repeat of that if she could help it.

"Armandeus, I think we should invest in Sun Lamps," She didn't even spare a glance back to the man at the couch and she directed her path to the Elf, as her intention was to stand next to him if not even a step behind. De'Ryanna wasn't hiding behind her friend, in her mind she was letting him more strongly assume the role he had placed himself in and when she was within reach her hand would extend to lightly brush against his shoulder as she turned around to face Sacher from her new location.

"Some people here need more sun." That tidbit was her subtle hint to Armandeus about the nature of their current bar guest.

De'Ryanna was going to control her temper, she was, she had to, and Armandeus being in the same room with her could help with that a great deal. And perhaps the elf would remain mostly calm as well for who knows what would happen if both she and him got upset at the same time.

The Inn's policy on serving people was suddenly terribly flawed and perhaps a notice that stated they had a right to decline service was needed. Though this man had technically done nothing wrong in this visit so far, she serving him was something she was not going to do.

And he ordered a Blood Wine, a lesser drink for the likes of him and she kept her scoff of a laugh internal for she wasn't going to treat him to that either. Though much of the blood wine was either gone, or meager, there had to be a little left somewhere.

[Sacher Masoch]

Sacher chuckled at the elf's comment about De'Ryanna saying that he was leaving. "As you can see dear sir, she was mistaken. It happens, no harm done. As I said, I have more time before I must take my leave." He found it amusing the way this elf had chosen to step to Sacher in such a way as to imply that he was to protect the virtue of the lovely De'Ryanna from the likes of him.

So the man, elf, man, oh let us stick with man. After all, he was male. So the man showed his bravado and did the proverbial chest pound and puffing of the chest to show he was man and he would protect woman. That was all well and good. It actually impressed Sacher. And now the man wanted him to move to the bar for his drink. A wicked smile danced across milk chocolate lips. "Armandeus is it?" After all, that was what his furry little Angel called the man. "I would love to move to the bar for a drink, provided De'Ryanna cares to join me. And you as well." After all, what was wrong with sitting down t a drink? No one said what the drink had to be.

Sacher was a little down hearted as De'Ryanna rose to move away from him. Just as his fingers had grazed the fabric of her blouse. But what a view for her to offer him in exchange. And speaking of views. "Forgive me Armandeus, but I simply must tell you that I find your eyes to be the most beautiful and sexy eyes I have ever seen upon a male of any breed, race, or creed." He smiled once more and watched as De'Ryanna placed her hand upon the man's shoulder. So she as going to allow him to take the traditional role of male protector. How cute.

Sun lamps? The woman actually just suggested sun lamps. He let out a laugh that came straight from his core. It had taken a moment for her comment to register. The punctuation of her second comment being that he needed more sun, or rather that some needed more sun, was what had caused it to register to him. After all, he was lost in purple pools of sexiness for a moment. "Oh my dear De'Ryanna, you slay me." Said once the laughter stopped.

Now wasn't that a silly choice of words? The thought that came to mind upon the realization that he had jut put an idea into her pretty little head. Not that she needed help with ideas mind you. Oh no, Sacher had De'Ryanna pegged as being far smarter than to need such things.

The eyes are the windows to the soul. To quote some famous dead person. Sacher never remembered who said things of such a nature. But some of those famous quotes stuck with him over time. And now he had two very sexy pairs of eyes to gaze into.

He rose from the couch and moved quickly to stand before the pair, leaving about a foot and a half of space between himself and Armandeus. After all, sometimes he could let personal space remain personal, even if only for a moment. He smiled at them before he spoke. "As I gaze into the pools of color before me, I wonder what it is that I might see. For the eyes are the windows to the soul, and to know more of you is my goal. Eyes of purple and eyes of brown, both of which could make me frown. For when I look at both of you, I see not what I wanted to. But that is fine and all is well, because I don't care ... Welcome to Hell!" Then he laughed again. This laugh was another deep laugh that showed that he was highly amused.

When his laughter stopped and he righted himself again, he moved his own chocolate orbs to find the purple of Armandeus' eyes. He stared intently, just waiting for Armandeus to look at him as well. Meet my eyes Armandeus, meet them well. Said in his head, even knowing that the elf most likely could not hear his thoughts. Though, things might be different here, perhaps many could hear the thoughts of others. He and his brothers could hear each others thoughts through mind links, or mental links as some called them. But he had never tried with anyone who was not of his kind. As he stared at Armandeus' eyes, he spoke to De'Ryanna. "De'Ryanna dear, I believe I am in the mood for something a little stronger. Would you happen to have any more of that delectable red wine you served me the other night?" But his eyes never wavered.

[Armandeus]

Protecting De'Ryanna from the likes of the man was exactly what Armandeus was planning to do. When she had moved herself beside and slightly behind him Armandeus took a half step forward as well, planting himself firmly between the two.

The man had spoken his name then and the elf's striking purple gaze began to narrow as it came to rest fully upon him. "It is simply Ar to you and I am not thirsty." There was annoyance in his tone for the man had just made mistake number two - the first having been not leaving, when he spoke the elf's name without it being given to him. Eru help them all if mistake number three was made for truly upsetting the elf could lead to disastrous consequences as much of the inn's patrons already knew.

What was that? And there it was! Mistake number three through five hundred and ten suddenly went soaring through the air as the man mentioned how beautiful the elf's eyes were. Said beautiful eyes narrowed into slits instantly as his look towards the man turned piercingly sharp. It has been said that everyone has a hot button issue of one or another and this man had just unwittingly hit Armandeus' with a hammer stroke. There was a roaring starting in his ears, drowning everything out save for the echo of it and the sudden whisper of a ghostly voice long dead haunting his senses with just four simple words, "Beautiful, is he not?"

He was going to . . . Wait, what? Sun lamps? It was the most ridiculous notion Armandeus had ever heard, but it served the trick to bring the elf back into the right century. Shaking his head the elf looked up and between the two he was currently sandwiched between as the notion behind the sunlamps became clear: the man was a vampire or some other creature of the night. It suddenly struck Armandeus as brilliant and he had trouble hiding his sudden grin. "I think that would be a novel idea. I'm sure our guests would appreciate the sunlight now that winter has fallen and driven them inside. We could place one in every room of the inn!"

Armandeus was inclined to agree with the flaw in the bar's serving policy and he frowned widely at the man now. Welcome to Hell indeed . . . The elf's fists clenched at his side in a physically display of the frustration he was feeling inside. There was fire burning through the elf's veins at the mention of his eyes again and through the touch on his should De'Ryanna could probably feel the way his muscles tensed. If the man didn't stop staring at the elf's eyes he was going to get a taste of hell, literally. Had he heard what the elf had done to the kitchen?

[De'Ryanna Aybara]

Slay him. she wishes that she would. Or could, to be more exact. The most effective way to kill him would be ti cut off his breathing supply, the problem there was that he was a vampire and there needing air was really of no consequence to him. Perhaps, then, she should consider keeping finely sharpened wooden steaks about her for such delightful occasions such as this. Sacher could have been too enthralled with Armandeus to notice a quick of her wrist sending the wood to his heart.

Alas, thus was not the case.

When Sacher started talking about Armandeus' eye shse felt the elf begning to tense and it drew her attention. He had to be thinking about something for a compliment alone couldn't draw this type of reaction, could it? The question she had was whether or not that current thought in his head would spur a vision and that was not something he should fall prey to at the moment.

While the vampire was prattling on with a poem that she didn't understand about what he was seeing and having it all be well, De'Ryanna lifted the hand that was closest to Armandeus and settled it gently in the middle of his back between the shoulders. It was a gesture so that he would know she was there and hopefully that, combined with the unnatural heat of her body, would be enough to keep him grounded.

The way he was looking at Armandeus, she thought that the gaze was pretty intense and if he was trying to break into the elves mind she'd laugh - internally of course- as his mind as almost to break into as her own. Then he came again with asking for a drink and she was still resolved to not serving him.

"You've been told what to do," she stated clearly, "if you want anything you'd have to go to the bar." Then it would up to Armandeus to serve the vampire. She'd only do it on one exception.

[Sacher Masoch]

Let the record reflect that Sacher did not ask De'Ryanna to get him a drink, simply if they had any of the drink still available. That being said ...

So Armandeus was not thirsty, it happened. But what was this? "I get the pleasure of a nickname, how delightful. I feel honored. Too bad you won't join me for a drink though. I am sure I would have very much enjoyed the pleasure of your company." Yes, he was now going to refer to the man as Ar. And here he thought that these people disliked him.

But then the sun lamps were being further discussed. And Sacher was back to feeling unloved. But alas, given who his sire was, his next move may or may not make some sense to others. Left hand slid into a pocket on his jeans and a little white tube was produced. He held the tube by the slender end and let it dangle. "Well, if sun lamps are going to become a part of the décor, it is a good thing that I tactfully acquired a few tubes of this from my sire on her last" *Ahem* "Visit home." Tactfully acquiring being his way of saying that he stole it from her. And her last little visit home hadn't exactly been voluntary, hence the clearing of his throat mid sentence.

He wondered if either of them had ever seen such tubes before. He knew his sire had been here. Though for how long, or how long ago she had left were uncertain to him. But the spies have always been around, and have always had plenty of information to share. And had it not been reported that she had been spotted around this Inn in the past, he would have never been sent to this area.

So perhaps one of them was familiar with the little white tube. The contents of which was a mixture of science and witchcraft. A special home brew of his sire's own design. A sun block with an SPF the likes of which none had ever seen before. Strong enough to protect a vampire in the full of the sun for up to an hour. Crafty little witch she was. And her affinity for science and education always came in handy.

A grin that De'Ryanna might pick up on as directed towards her, even if he was still trying to get Ar to meet his gaze. "I dug this out of a secret compartment in my coffin after my last visit with you De'Ryanna. I thought perhaps it best that I keep a tube on me at all times when dealing with you." She would know why. His previous visit had been a close call indeed.

Now, unfortunately, Sacher had not heard of the incident in the kitchen. But if he had, he might still continue on his chosen path, he might not. Who's to say as he had no knowledge of the incident. But as far as hell went, he had not unleashed his special kind of hell upon them, yet.

A shift in De'Ryanna's posture and a movement of her arm seen in his peripheral vision caused him to pay closer attention to the other things that were going on in his peripheral vision. And he noticed the fist clenched at Ar's side. So he was getting to the man. Good!

De'Ryanna addressing him was what finally drew his attention from the beauty of Ar's purple eyes. After all, when someone addresses you, you should look at them, yes? So he drew his gaze back to the chocolate of De'Ryanna's eyes. Not intending to capture her mind, simply to look at her while speaking to her. "I would be more than happy to move to the bar for a drink. I simply inquired as to the availability of a certain spirit." He winked at her, given that they both knew there were no spirits in that particular bottle.

Seeing how they were tensing around him and the mentioning of the sunlamps gave the impression that he was quickly wearing out his welcome. What a shame. And here he was thinking that when his brothers arrived, they might find a room at this fine establishment. So in order to keep that as an option, he felt the need for a little damage control, so to speak.

The sun block was put back into his pocket and both arms moved out to his sides in a show of not touching anyone. Unless De'Ryanna moved from beside and yet slightly behind Ar, this would put his wrist nearly in her face as he leaned forward to whisper in Ar's ear. Now, he had no doubt that De'Ryanna would more than likely hear him. But the leaning in to whisper was for a completely different reason.

Nearing Ar's ear, unless he backed away quickly, he would speak in the hushed tones of a whisper. "Now, I am starting to feel just a little unwelcome here. You have a reputation in this town Ar. A very good one in fact. So wouldn't it be a shame if the local newspapers, or town crier or whatever it is you have in these parts, got wind of a patron of your establishment being asked to leave simply for being a vampire and finding you two attractive. Because those are my only two offenses so far." He chuckled softly as he righted himself to stand before them both once again.

So what was the reason for the leaning in and putting his arm so close to De'Ryanna? Oh, that is simple enough to explain. Everyone, even a vampire, has a scent. And as Sacher was leaning forward to whisper to Ar, he was entertaining thoughts of the three of them. He was enjoying the mental images of the three of them in a ménage à trois. And this was altering his scent. His pheromones were raising as he was becoming rather thrilled with the images. And his proximity to them, their scents, added to his thrill. After all, he might not be a shape shifter vampire, like his sire, but he had gained a few bestial qualities from her. And he had one hell of a sense of smell.

So now that he had delivered his message, and was again standing before the pair, he wondered if he was going to be asked to leave, or if they were going to walk with him to the bar for a drink. If the bar was the option chosen, it would have to be a quick one, as it was getting late. And now, he had an issue to contend with before returning to his coffin for the day. Did ladies of the night still entertain at this hour?

[Armandeus]

Compliments could garner all forms of reactions, but when it came to his eyes compliments were the last thing that Armandeus heard. What he did hear, however, was probably the best kept secret in the land for he had never told another living person just what that ghostly voice told him. In response to her unasked question the voice had never had the power to spur a vision, but there was always a first time for everything and the elf was sorely past due for another one. For that reason he was utterly grateful to the feel of her hand settled against his back and the heat he could feel coming from it. The physical sensation helped to keep him grounded and draw his attention back towards the man in front of him.

His giving the man his nickname was not an honor bestowed, but rather a deterrent from hearing the man butcher his name like so many had done before. As for the special tube of sunscreen... Armandeus couldn't contain the roll of his eyes for that one. Given his rather elusive string of luck lately it just figured and made him silently agree with De'Ryanna about carrying finely sharpened wooden stakes around. Although in a pinch a chair leg could do nicely and here the elf couldn't resist glancing at the nearest chair in contemplation.

If the man had thought Armandeus was tense before it was nothing compared to the way he stiffened when the man began whispering in his ear. The man's words washed over him yet the elf stood stock still until he had backed away again. "Is that a threat?" His voice was calm but there was a dangerous undercurrent to it. "Let me tell you of my reputation in this town. It is not a perfect one, but that does not matter. Those who know me know me well and if the word gets out that you have been thrown out of here for your offenses then they will not be surprised, or appalled, or whatever you think will happen. The people of this town like me and it will not do you well to become my enemy."

As far as he was concerned the man could get his own bloody drink or just leave.

[De'Ryanna Aybara]

Once upon a time there was this vampire who was impervious to the sun and all the normal fatalities of her kin, and so were the ones in her employ. At the moment Ryanna was reminded of such a vampire when she saw the sunscreen that Sacher so prominently displayed for them to see, and just like Armandeus, she rolled her eyes. "And I thought you liked pain." Accentuating the word 'like' by shifting her eyes to the tube before the settled back on him with a small lift of her brow. He was the one who enjoyed pain and yet he was blanching at getting a bit of sun? She found that to be amusing, even if he stayed away from it for matters of his own survival, that was not the point.

Not everyone could speak Armandeus' name the way she could - even if they were Elven - so she didn't blame him for keeping the whole of it to himself, she did the same with the last name she used. It was better to have it said by those who had a proper tongue.

As she listened to Sacher talk about ruining Armandeus' she shifted her glance back to him and the hand that was positioned on his back moved faintly, making small calming circles. She wanted him to stay with her in the element of 'calm'. Concerned for his health, yes, but it had also been a long time since she had any real physical contact with him; perhaps she was reminiscing in the back of her mind. The heat continued to come from her hand and, as he knew, it wouldn't stay in one place but would slowly start to spread out through his body. "It is rather late, Armandeus," speaking directly to the elf without looking to the vampire. "I believe his request falls outside of our serving hours."

"He can serve himself." Those were were said as her eyes moved from watching her hand and nailed into Sacher, that same challenging look hidden behind her eyes. There were a few things left out at the bar in case a patron got hungry or needed something after service hours. And it was after hours.. it was nearing time for the two of them to start preparing for the day.

She tried not to smile but there was a small tug of one on the corner of her lips. In her mind she saw herself patting Armandeus on the back and offering a bit more than just a hand on the back for comfort but it was only a thought for that bridge had been slightly crossed before with not-so-pleasant results. Still, that didn't keep her from saying what she did next. "And we can attend to our own business."

The business of taking stock to see if a trip to the Marketplace was needed, and then preparing for the days dealings.

[Sacher Masoch]

Sacher would have loved to hear De'Ryanna's 'Once upon a time ...' It would have been doubly sweet. Because for one, he could have told her some of the secrets of that vampire, and how she wasn't completely impervious to all things fatal to her kin. And two, it would have told him what those back home had been suspecting all along. She had her Lieutenant with her. After all, unless she was building another Army, which he seriously doubted, then her Lieutenant and her husband would have been the only two vampires in her company. But enough about her.

So Ar wasn't worried about his reputation. That was unusual for someone who had the reputation of being the best baker in the area. Or so it had been said when he inquired of a baker who could make a special French dessert. He had just never put two and two together until this night. They had said to talk to Ar, that he was at the Tel. And just moments before Sacher had made the threat, he it had dawned on him, this was Ar, and they were at the Tel. The Tel'Ranaemyn Inn. So that was why he was able to make the threat.

So it was a bad idea to get on Ar's bad side huh? That never stopped Sacher before. He was good at pushing buttons. When it suited him anyway. So the question was, did it suit him now? A question that would have to wait, for De'Ryanna had addressed him. And he needed to be polite and respond to her. "Pain, yes, but not death my dear. At least not the permanent death that the sun would provide." And a wink followed the comment, as well as a grin for good measure.

That grin remained as she said he could serve himself. Though, when she accentuated her comment with the added suggestion that the two of them go take care of their own business. It almost sounded as if they were to go off to be alone for intimate reasons. Sacher had to admit, at least to himself, that he did not like the sound of that. But, he did not own her, and had already told himself that he had no desire to do such. So she was free to frolic with whomever she so pleased. He was just down hearted that he wasn't being invited to join.

That being said, he did have a matter of his own to attend to. His thoughts had caused a physical reaction. And his choices were to force someone here to deal with it, deal with it himself, or solicit the services of a lady of the night. Now Sacher was good at making others take care of it for him, even if they did not want to. But that could cause serious damage to his mission. After all, he would need to be around this place more at a later time. He could drop trow and take care of it himself right where he stood, but again, it could damage the mission. He could go off and take care of it himself elsewhere. But why do that when he had the last option, a lady of the night.

"Normally, I would simply serve myself. But the hour has grown late, and I require the services of a lady of the night, before there is no more night. So I will part company with you both now. Enjoy your morning." A wink to them both before he turned on his heels and headed for the door.

Sacher's poem had meaning, even if they did not get it. But they were about to get it. Because even though Sacher was not a master vampire (yet) and did not have a human or even a lycan servant (yet), he had discovered one thing that he could do. Sacher had a Beast to Call. Something normally reserved for Master Vampire's. And when Sacher had said welcome to hell, he had meant it. So as e moved to the doors of the Inn, he whispered five little words into the air. "Here kitty kitty kitty kitty." And then he reached the front doors.

Hands went to the handles of the doors and he swung them open. And the moment he did, hundreds of cats rushed in. There were big cats, and little cats. Fat cats and slim cats, old cats and young cats, homeless cats and pampered cats. If there was a cat within ear shot, that did not have a human side to tell them otherwise, they answered his call. "Have fun my pretties. Enjoy your new home." Cats were very territorial. And if they were told this was home by someone who spoke to them the way Sacher did, they would take it as true. So they filled the Inn, come heading up stairs, others hiding under them. Some filling the bar, others filling other common rooms. The Inn had quickly become over run with cats. And Sacher walked out the door, closing it behind the last cat to enter, and made his way into the night.

[The Inn]

The cats would defiantly enjoy their new home - to bad it wasn't the Inn. While it was that the structure was open for people to take up residence before any could claim the place as a home a contract had to be signed to make their presence binding and afford them the liberty of being able to stay. What was the point of signing the Ledger if not making a contract? Sacher was no resident and if he were then the 'home' would have been the confines of his room. Surprise, your room is stuffed to the brim with cats!

The felines would come in, but only to the main floor and since they had no resident to vouch for their presence the only area that would be available for their disposal was the foyer and the common area of the bar - quite uncomfortable for a bunch of cats. For any of those misguided cats that thought to make the place their home would find themselves winked out and returned to wherever it was that they came from, with no memory of where they had been or that they had even left.

The cat problem was no problem. Who said that the Inn didn't have protection . . .

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