Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Tiranoth: Lovebites

Fishman

Fishman

Broseidon
Benefactor
"Before the end of the year is out. If you can, before Genari... Oh? Go ahead, Ro... talk business... special CEO's treat...me ... ghoul needs... and... Tiranoth... getting terribly... wonderful, darling. I'll see you in a few days."

The voice in the back room of Lovebites faded in and out as someone chattered on the phone. The conversation ended with a smooch and a click as the phone was flipped and closed. It was an old contraption, but useful nonetheless.

Rushing from the back room into the crowded bar area was the CEO of Thornell Industries, herself, known as the main supplier for the hungry dead in Tiranoth. She was a stunning woman, thought of as a regular beauty in this part of town. Pale, full-bodied, long-legged; she had it all. Her business suits were usually decorated with a piece of flare, whether it was a collar of feathers, bedazzled sleeves, or colorful stockings. She wasn't just a businesswoman; she had style.

"Good news, everyone! This year, we're going to have something special for Genarium!" she greeted them, voice feminine and mature, but raspy, much like the usual chain-smoking mother-in-law.

The patrons, most of which were ghouls and zombies, lifted their tankards to her, spilling droplets of red liquid around.

"Oh, now don't get too rowdy, gentlemen! I just bought this suit."

Raucous laughter ensued, heard down the streets of Thacras.
 
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Arabella was in need of some entertainment and refreshment and hoped to find both of those in Lovebites. Sweeping her raven hair behind her shoulders, the twenty-one-year old adjusted the sunglasses on her face. The red lenses covered up her very dark eyes, keeping them protected. They were even often worn during the night, mostly to keep her mysterious. Releasing a deep sigh, she shoved open the door to Lovebites and walked inside. Her blue metallic jacket covered her clothing and weapons, but still allowed her access to them if necessary. Beneath the jacket was a black pair of pants, black boots that went up past her knees, and a black corset looking top with red trimming. Her eyes took in the familiar scene and without a word, she made her way over towards the bar, sliding up on an abandoned stool far away from the others.

"Bartender! A glass of your best!" Arabella called out as if she was a regular visitor, which she wasn't. She hoped that he would just move down to her so that she could get something to drink without much trouble.
 
"Oh, a newcomer. Not every day I get one of you. Welcome to Lovebites, dear," said the pale woman. She broke out a bottle herself and poured a tumbler of red liquid for the woman. "This is very fresh. You've come at the right time. Enjoy, Miss...?" She looked up expectantly at the dark-haired woman before her.
 
Arabella was grateful for the service though she wasn't quite sure what the best liquid was, but it was red in nature, which led her to believe it was blood. But, what kind of blood? Deciding it would be rude to ask until she was a little more acquainted with the female, she slid her hair behind her shoulders just as she was asked her name. Musing a bit, she decided it would be stupid to give a fake name, especially since she planned on sticking around the area for a while.

"Arabella Lucroy and yeah, I'm pretty new to the place. I overheard people talking about this joint and thought I'd come check it out, very good recommendations."
 
"Wonderful, wonderful! Well, they were right. Premiere destination and watering hole for all of our kind, here to sate every thirst." The woman stretched out her arms and grinned. A few of her teeth were sharper than they should have been.

"My name is Durga Thornell. You might hear that name quite a bit. In any case, nice to meet you, Miss Lucroy," she said, holding a hand out to shake.

The doors opened and in came another patron, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a pair of horns curled about his face. He had strong features but wicked, hunting eyes that gleamed brightly behind his bangs. He held himself with a commanding presence.

"Oh, well, well," chimed Durga. "Another new customer. I wonder what bites?"

The man heard this and with a raised brow, approached both women and sat right next to Arabella.

"Evening," he said, his voice deep and resounding. He looked between them both, lastly on Arabella, where his gaze lingered a moment more. "Ladies."
 
"Mmm... that name is familiar, but just from the whispers from people I've passed on the street, nothing really terrible though." Smiling a little, Arabella drank on the liquid that had been put in front of her. Stretching out a little, she glanced around at the other patrons, making a mental note that she probably did not want to get on the wrong side of Durga, especially with those mighty sharp chompers. Taking the female's hand, she shook it, flashing a bright smile before dropping her hand away back to the counter.

"Well, it's a lot busier than I expected, but I guess that's good for business, hm?" Her gaze shifted towards the new comer, not shying away when he sat down beside her. Studying him silently and noticing that his gaze lingered a bit longer than what was perhaps normal, she just rolled her shoulders backwrds before sweeping her hair over her shoulders. "Good evening, sir." Arabella was polite to a certain limit, but was not one to piss off.
 
"Well, that's what happens when you monopolize a high demand market that's tough to supply for," Durza told Arabella. "Especially when you're really good at it. Like me! Why, people clamber to donate to our cause. Especially if they're getting paid!"

When the demonic man sat down, Durga poured out the rest of the bottle she had also served Arabella, into another short glass. She slid it over to him. "If you two need another drink, do let the bartender, Thomas, know. I'd love to stay, but there's always business to be done." With a smile, she gave them a salute and a goodbye in Lutetian.

Using a hand with very thin, spindly fingers, the horned man picked up his glass and gave it a tentative sip. He peered at Durza as she left.

"Never liked businesswomen much," he told Arabella. "This city is filled with sinister folk, but she's by far the worst one I've ever met. What do you think?"

The man turned his head to look at his company. His eyes were golden, much like a cat's eyes in the dark.
 
"Hm. Interesting..." Arabella was curious about what kind of people donated to the cause and if there were any exotic flavors, so to speak. Watching Durza walk away from them, the Vampire shook her head and glanced over towards the stranger, blinking at his words. Her fingers ran against the half empty glass she had been nursing, not quite sure what to think of what he said.

"Well, to be honest, I'm new to the city. She seemed nice enough to me, but I suppose looks can be deceiving. I'm Arabella Lucroy, by the way... Mr...?" She smiled politely towards him, finishing off her drink before signaling for the bartender. "You have anything more exotic?" She questioned, wanting a pick-me-up.
 
"Niven," said the man, smiling back. "Pleased to meet you."

He put his hand out, and if taken, a kiss would come to her fingers instead of shaking her hand. He held up one of his to the bartender. "And the same for me."

"So I assume you're coming from Lutetia. How fares the cursed city?" he asked.
 
Arabella smiled, putting her own hand out to shake Niven's. When he instead kissed her fingers, the vampire stared at him, not quite sure how to react. Part of her wanted to shove her blade through his face while the other part was flattered. Deciding that shedding blood in someone's establishment would be rude, she just forced a smile and removed her hand from his. Her head tilted towards the side and she just shrugged a little, not sure how much she should tell the stranger.

"Assuming isn't always wise. From what I've heard, it's become a complete bloodbath. I wouldn't go there, if I were you unless you like death." Arabella smiled, flashing pointy fangs before going back to her drink. "How about you? Were do you hail from?"
 
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