Liquor and Music (open)

[osirisparthena]

The smell of expensive cologne, the taste of hard liquor and the dim, fluorescent lights made The Silent Stone a favorable place for Osiris to hang out. Not that he was doing much hanging out there that evening, not at first anyway. His band had been hired to play that evening, a gig he gratefully took on. He enjoyed the clientele at the upscale bar, finding them intriguing and sexy. Even the men held a certain air of attractiveness that Sy, a very straight man, couldn't even deny. Plus, no fellow Avisaille would be caught there. Not likely, anyway. Bar life wasn't really for the bird people, or so Sy liked to refer to them as. They liked going to bed at a "decent" hour, another thing that set Sy apart from his fellow Avis. Night time was preferable to the "young" man. Interesting things happened in the dark, and Sy liked to be witness to interesting things when possible.

"They say, that I must learn to kill before I can feel safe, but I
I'd rather kill myself than turn into their slave. Sometimes, I feel that I should go and play with the thunder. Somehow I just don't wanna stay and wait for a wonder..." The words slipped through his lips as he leaned into the microphone, his baby blue eyes shutting as he let the music absorb into him, filling him. He lost himself in the sounds and experience, the lights, the alcohol, the sounds of the crowd around him and the strumming of his own guitar and band mates playing their respective instruments.

"I've been watching...I've been waiting...In the shadows for my time...I've been searching...I've been living...For tomorrows all my life.." He opened his eyes and looked out at the crowd, savoring the last song of his set. Singing was second nature to Sy. His voice was angelic, his eyes kind, but there was something cold and dark about him, something a little untrusting. He was the complete opposite of his sister and he thought about her briefly as he sang. He always joked that woodland creatures would come and help her clean house or sew a dress if she sang, seeing as she had been just as gifted in song as he. He was sure birds had flown to her window just to listen to her. The thought made his heart swell just a little; she was the only person he cared for. She was the sole reason he was even back in this stupid city.

"In the shadows. In the shadows, I've been waiting.." The song ended and the inhabitants of the bar barely paid attention. A few people clapped, but most of them were lost in conversation or the art of seduction and just weren't paying attention. Sy could care less, he knew the band had done well and he knew he had been incredible. He was arrogant enough to know it was true. The DJ's music slipped back on and the band started cleaning up from their set to take a break. Sy placed his guitar down in its case and then moved to the bar as inconspicuously as possible, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He didn't often get confronted for an autograph, but who knew. Every so often someone would strike up a conversation and unless it was a sexy woman, he wasn't usually interested. "Rum and coke." He said softly to the bartender when He had finally made eye contact. "Extra rum."

[megmasters]

The Silent Stone was the hippest club in all of Scriptor Bay. At least that's how the Gargoyles saw it. Meg wasn't any different from the other Gargoyles in that aspect. The Silent Stone was her favorite place to go when there was nothing exciting going on in the city. Which was most nights. She wasn't the most sociable but she did know the bartender well enough that she usually hung around the bar.

So Meg was sitting on the counter of the bar, her feet dangling just over one of the bar stools that no one dared to sit in. Her jeans were torn and tattered around the knees and in place of a shirt she had on a dress, making it a very grunge looking ensemble. It might look strange to someone who didn't know her, but for those who did knew it was her usual look.

The beat from the music roared through the club and made her eardrums ring slightly at how loud the racket was. She looked over at the stage just as the song was ending and took notice of all the band members. All the men looked out of place in her opinion. The drummer looked like he was wearing eyeliner and the one playing the bass had long hair that made him look like a girl when it covered his face. They were all lanky, too. Definitely not gargoyles and she wondered who the hell hired the humans.

When their final song ended she watched them all set down their instruments and head off the stage. The bass player headed towards the bathroom and the others all seemed to go right for the bar. The lead singer was the closest to her and she was able to get more notice of him now than she had when he was onstage. He had hair that was longer than the gargoyles also. Yet it wasn't as long as the bass player's so he didn't look feminine the way the other did.

Meg listened to him order his drink and then looked around to see if any of the others were going to walk up to him and strike up a conversation first. Some of the other female gargoyles liked to prey on the humans as if they were fresh meat. But nobody seemed to take notice of him or the other band mates for that matter. He was only a few stools down and nobody was in between them so she slid her butt across the table until she was just beside him and set a foot up on the counter where she knew his drink would be set when it came.

"You don't belong here." Was the first words out of her mouth that night. He was lanky and it looked like he hardly had any meat on his bones. He looked almost fragile, even. Yet he had a dark look to his features that was peculiarly interesting. "You stick out like a sore thumb." She smirked and watched him, wondering if he'd get up and walk away or if he'd actually have something to say.

[osirisparthena]

There he was, minding his own business, his thoughts somewhere other than the bar he was currently sitting at when suddenly a pair of shoes appeared before him, tugging him from his little reverie. He made no move, other than his eyes now focused on the sneakers. They were dirty, and not something he would expect to see on a bar, especially a bar at the Silent Stone. His gaze shifted up the slender legs, his head turning ever so slightly so he could catch a glimpse of the sneakers owners. "You don't belong here."

An arrogant sort of snort slid out his nostrils, mocking the words she said as if to say what the hell do you know. The bartender brought his drink and gave the girl a once over before moving on. Sy was a little surprised he didn't tell her to get her nasty feet off his bar. They had standards there, or so Sy thought. "Do I?" He asked in mocking tone at her comment about him sticking out. He didn't think he stuck out too badly there. There was a reason they hired him; he fit the bill of what they wanted as far as entertainment. At least to some degree considering they had brought the band back there for what was there second appearance.

Sy took a sip of his drink. It was definitely strong, but not as strong as he had wanted. Stupid bartender. And he watered it down with ice, too. Sy casually lifted his hand to her feet and pushed them off the bar top so they were no longer in front of him. "I'm not the only one who sticks out here, sweetheart. You're not exactly dressed like the usual clientele yourself." His pale blue eyes gave her another once over, wondering if she was trying to hit on him. He decided he'd tap that, but he wouldn't pursue it too hard. If it looked liked he wasn't going to get lucky, she would certainly do in a pinch. Probably more fun than the snotty sluts that hung around that bar anyway. She was cute enough to bring home, but he knew he could get cuter. "You want me to buy you a drink or something?"

[megmasters]

"...You're not exactly dressed like the usual clientele yourself."

Meg looked around to the other occupants of the lounge although she already knew what they looked like and a lot of them were even familiar to her.

The men dressed in suits with ties except for a select few who went without a tie for a more casual appearance. Then there were a few who were wearing polo shirts and jeans. You could always tell the ones who didn't belong because they were found in jeans.The women were a lot more diverse than the men, yet they all seemed to have the same style sense to them. Either upscale cocktail dresses with plunging necklines or slacks for a more professional look. The women were a little trickier to identify who belonged and who tried. The easiest way to tell between them was how they were put together. The locales didn't overdo it with accessories the way strangers did.

Then there was the sure way to tell who belonged and who didn't. The eyes. Those who were regular clients of the Silent Stone had eyes that made them seem older than they actual were. If a persons' eyes were the doorway to their soul then those occupants had a very old soul.

Meg knew she didn't dress like the rest of the occupants and she didn't have a problem with it. It seemed as if this no name singer didn't have a problem with it either and that was enough to make her smirk right back at him. Meg along with the regulars knew that the Silent Stone became whatever they chose it to be. They chose to make it upscale and classy with a dark, gothic feel to it. The vibe was electrifying and made them all feel at home, which was why it remained that way. However, if they all decided they wanted to make it a happier more lively spot then all they had to do was change it. The dress code was whatever the Gargoyles made it. Which was why Meg could get away with what she wore. She still preferred the last century's choice.

When Mr. No-name moved her feet out of his way she swiveled herself just enough so that she could move her legs to dangle off the edge of the bar. She planted her hands down on both sides of her and leaned onto one hand more than the other, her shoulder raising so she could rest her chin on it and watch him. He seemed to have a bit of a mood which she knew that she could have herself if she so chose to.

"I belong more than you." She said in a plain voice that came out as a statement. She wasn't assuming she did and she didn't say it with a quivering voice as if she were defensive. She just said it so he would know it. It was that simple.

Her eyes looked him over and thought again how lanky he seemed. If he were prey to an animal they'd probably leave him alone. He didn't look like he had much meat on his bones. That and his bright blue eyes stood out most to her. He had eyes that seemed to define the rest of him. That made her think about the eyes being a doorway again and she wondered if souls were real or not. If they were did she have one? Probably not.

He acts like he doesn't have a care in the world.

"You want me to buy you a drink or something?"

"I'm not much of a drinker." Meg replied and found his question to be amusing. Most human women would fawn over men just to get free cocktails. Not her. She was sure most of the women there could care less for a man to buy them a drink. They had their own means of getting alcohol or anything else they wanted. Her included.

"You came over here to sit. Not a lot of people sit at the bar unless they don't fit in or they're alone. I think you fit in both of those categories. That's bad." She offered a little smirk again while her legs moved back and forth hanging off the edge of the bar counter.

The bartender came by with a damp rag and started to wipe down the bar to get rid of all the water rims from glasses and bottles that sat there far too long and wasted alcohol that spilled out of those same glasses that were picked up too fast. He didn't want it to get sticky. He picked up a few bucks that were lying near the far end and then headed towards the two who appeared to just be chatting, taking his time.

"I'm sure there are other places that could use a loud band like yours. There's a cowboy bar just a few blocks down and a club. This couldn't have been the first place to offer you a job. So why did you choose here?"

[osirisparthena]

She belonged more than him? A brow lifted slightly at the comment and a soft snort of a chuckle rushed from his nose but he tried not to show his complete and utter amusement at the comment. How could she belong more than him? That made no sense. It was a club, how could anyone belong more than someone else? He brushed it off, but again lifted a brow at her saying she wasn't much of a drinker, this time looking at her after the comment. If she wasn't a drinker what the hell was she doing there at the bar? An arrogant sort of smirk crossed his lips, because that's just how he was. She was playing some sort of part now and it was up to him to figure out what. She had caught his interest, at least. He didn't show it much, but he was definitely intrigued.

"...Not a lot of people sit at the bar unless they don't fit in or they're alone. I think you fit in both of those categories. Sy sipped his drink and then slid his elbow onto the table and allowed his hand to cradle his chin, watching her as she spoke. That's bad." An amused smirk crossed his lips and he slowly nodded his head. This was bad. Why was this bad?

"Tell me more." Came the smooth voice, and he felt his feathers bristle slightly at the intrigue. This was a new approach..

"I'm sure there are other places that could use a loud band like yours. There's a cowboy bar just a few blocks down and a club. This couldn't have been the first place to offer you a job. So why did you choose here?"

Cowboy place!? The feathers seemed to stand on end like the hairs at the nape of his neck were. He hated that scuzzy cowboy bar. What sort of name was Jack Kit anyway? The clientele was obnoxious and the owner was a douche, that was for sure. He hardly offered a scent to Sy when he offered his services, not that he wanted to play there, especially considering their style of music, but a buck was a buck and he had to afford booze and food somehow, didn't he?

"Sounds like you don't like my band." He countered smoothly after a moment, his tone amused though deep down he was slightly offended. He had a great voice, he knew he had more talent in one feather than most singers had in their entire bodies, but that didn't mean everyone would like his music selection. Fuck 'em, he thought. "We don't play country, sweetheart, and this place pays decent for the work. Gotta make ends meet." He took another sip, his body more relaxed as he sat up and reclined a little in the stool seat, sipping his drink. "I'd offer you your on private little show, but seems like you're not interested." His voice had a hint of arrogance to it, knowing she would offer a snarky reply in return. She seemed the sort to give those out readily.

[megmasters]

She didn't like the way he looked at her. She didn't like the way that his eyes were so vibrantly blue and beautiful or the way he looked at her with them. She didn't like his smile and the way he seemed to smirk back at her in the same sarcastic way that she did to him. Her own face showed her dislike as she began to frown and just stare at him with her own dull brown eyes.

"Sounds like you don't like my band."

That was an understatement. She thought to herself and was getting ready to look away and more than likely just scoot herself down the bar away from him to have a conversation with the bartender but stopped when he seemed to catch her attention again.

"I'd offer you your on private little show, but seems like you're not interested."

It was this that made her laugh. She began to laugh at him while she sat there in front of him. Shaking her head she pushed his glass a little down the bar and slid herself so that she could be right in front of him, resulting in having to bend her knees so she could get her right leg over him and then moved both her feet to plant them down on his seat. Whether they'd hit the stool or his actual legs depended on whether he chose to move or not.

She leaned in resting her elbows against her knees so she could get a closer look at him and scoffed. "You couldn't pay me to let you give me a private show."

[osirisparthena]

Her laugh was mocking and he could feel his cheeks heat up a little in annoyance. What was she laughing at, anyway? She approached him. She's the one that made the first move in talking and now she was acting like a snotty little bitch. Or was she? Sy wasn't entirely sure what she was doing or why she was laughing. It was so typical of women to show this obnoxious sort of behavior. Make a subtle move and let the man think he's the one making all the moves and then when he does she makes him feel like a fucking retard for it. Is that the game she wanted to play? Of course it was! All women played that game. That was why Sy was a single man. He didn't date women seriously because they were fake. They didn't know what they wanted and they expected the men to give them what they wanted, only they had no fucking clue and ended up getting pissed off when they didn't get what they didn't know they even wanted! It was a viscous cycle he didn't enjoy going around in, so one night stands were extremely preferred for this reason. No drama with a one night stand, unless the girl gets clingy and thinks there was more to the sex than there really was. That usually made for an awkward morning..

His head turned a little, following his drink as she pushed it away, but he looked back at her as she scooted in front of him, planting her dainty little feet on his thighs and leaning down to look him in the eye. He looked up with a stoic face, looking into the deep, dark, nearly black eyes. "You couldn't pay me to let you give me a private show."

At this he smiled again. A knowing smile. He had her; he knew this game all to well, the hard-to-get-but-not-really game. She wanted to jump his bones but wanted him to work for it. The question was should he even bother working for it? Sy always liked a good challenge but was he really up for it tonight? She obviously wanted him, otherwise she wouldn't have wasted her time talking to him or the energy to make herself his prime focus. He had to literally push her away in order to escape the penetrating glance. It wouldn't be hard to do, really...get her to come home with him. It was just a game, but he was tired and it had been a shitty week and she was, in a sense, putting his band down. He didn't like that.

"Bullshit." He said softly, a smug little grin creasing his lips as his hands slid easily to her calves, just resting his hands there like they were handlebars or something. He gently pulled them apart, furthering the distance between her knees as he gazed up at her. "If that were true you wouldn't be sitting here in front of me right now. You wouldn't have bothered with me at all. Quit lying to me, sweetheart. And quit lying to yourself." The smile slipped away and he tilted his head a little as he continued looking up at her. "Sure you don't want that drink?"

[megmasters]

Meg had no intention of flirting with this stranger for long. She just knew he wasn't like the rest of them. Like her. He didn't belong at the Silent Stone and maybe his music wasn't going to make her ears bleed but the club would be better off sticking to its own kind. She didn't know why they hired outside talent when they had perfectly good talent so close to home. Maybe The Stones sounded like a bad cover band name but their music was entrancing.

As her mind had wandered to another place, she was brought back to reality when she felt her legs being pulled apart. Her eyes were open and aware, watching this guy like a hawk now. She would know his every move and hear his every word.

"If that were true you wouldn't be sitting here in front of me right now. You wouldn't have bothered with me at all. Quit lying to me, sweetheart. And quit lying to yourself."


She watched him in silent anger, her brows raising and becoming tense before they lowered and her look became more casual. Her elbows rested on her thighs and her fingers were intertwining with ease in front of her as she leaned forward so his face wasn't too far from her own. Meg made sure her mouth was in clear view for the stranger as she made sure to enunciate every word she spoke so there would be no confusion.

"I came over here because I was bored. You're but a plaything for me until something better comes along."

Those words couldn't be more correct. Meg didn't stick around for long. Friends came and went. Lovers were nonexistent. She didn't keep anyone close. At least, not anyone who wasn't her own flesh and blood. Family mattered but that was all.

"You can run along now. You're growing dull fast." A smirk crept over her lips and she raised a brow. She could have been jesting or she could have been acting like a true bitch. It all depended on the way it was interpreted.

[osirisparthena]

He listened closely to her words, watched her movements even closer. Maybe it was the bird of prey in him, watching, waiting, patiently picking apart the situation before going in for the kill. This was the reason he was so unlike the others of his kind; he was too much like the eagle. Quick, eerie, patient and at times violent. He could rip her to shreds if he so desired, but Sy wasn't interested in that. That was the docile Avisaille in him. The stroke of humanity that gripped him so fiercely beneath his layers of arrogance and stealth.

"You can run along now. You're growing dull fast." Came her words and Sy knew she probably wasn't being completely serious. She was testing him, or maybe she was, in fact, telling him to leave. He was clever though, and he knew if she truly wasn't interested she would have moved away herself. She was, after all, the one who came to him, the one who was sitting before him a the bar, at the spot he chose to sit in before he'd even seen her.

Slowly he let his hands slide off her legs and he leaned back a little in his seat, looking up at her casually, challenging her in a sense. Would she make him leave? Would she follow? Did he truly even give a shit if she would do either? Without his eyes leaving her he tilted his glass up to his lips and let the beverage slide easily down his throat, not really savoring the taste. He would stick with beer after that.

"Well," He started after placing the glass on the counter, "Seeing as I was here first I should be asking you to leave since you're sort of blocking my spot at the bar, making it impossible to order another drink. But since you can't be bothered to move yourself and you so obviously want nothing to do with me," His lips curled at the corners a little as he continued on, "I shall grant you your request." The smirk that had been playing on his lips left completely as he pushed away from the bar and got off his stool. He moved a few seats down to where the girl had come from and waved a hand at the bartender. "One Killian." He called out, not even giving the bitch a second glance.

[megmasters]

The barkeep was wiping down the counters again, since he'd just brought in a new bag of ice to fill the ice chest behind the bar that they stuck bottles of beer in to keep them cool. It was a cheaper, easier way to store them when people wanted a bottle instead of what was on tap. Not a lot of them did. It was a waste of money in Steven's opinion. But what did he know? He only worked there.

When he heard the call for a Killian he looked over towards the couple. Uncouple sounded more correct. He knew Megaera. And the lad was the singer in the band they hired. Not bad at all, that band. He could tell Meg was at it again. Messing around with the human and taunting him the way she always did. What did he care? It was none of his business.

"Coming right up." He said and nodded to the human with a steady stare.

This person wasn't planning on moving. He was a stubborn one. Meg liked that. But she meant what she said to him so she lifted her feet off of him and used her hands to scoot down on the bar counter so she was no longer in front of him.

The girl didn't stop sliding down the bar though. She kept scooting herself down until she got to where the counter and the wall met on one end and looked over towards the bartender. Steven was one of the nicer bartenders at the Silent Stone. He was a little younger than her but she knew him well enough and waited to catch his eye and then gestured with a nod for him to come over.

"Make it strong." Was all she said to him.

Steven went about his business, soaking the rest of the water up in a cloth and then tossing it into a bucket where there were a few other dirty rags waiting to be washed. He was about to make the stranger's drink when he caught Meg out of the corner of his eye trying to get his attention. His back was to the man and he glanced over his shoulder to see if he was looking at him then headed over to where Meg was.

Before he could say anything she instructed him to make the stranger a strong drink. "Are you sure? It's a beer it won't taste like a Killian's if I-" "It will only take one sip." Steven sighed and barely nodded before he headed over to the ice chest and pulled out one of the killian's, an Irish beer. Not his personal favorite but it wasn't half bad either. He turned his back to the stranger again, acting like he needed to find the bottle opener but it was already in his hand.

There was a drawer behind the bar that unless you knew where it was, you wouldn't even know it exist. Inside this drawer was an array of different colored pills. Some looked as if they might have been aspirin or vitamins but then there were others that were colored maroons with green flecks and purples that had a single dot of yellow on the side. Steven didn't personally like taking from the drug drawer but sometimes it was necessary. Especially when there were slip ups.

He pulled out one of the green flecked red pills and dropped it into the mouth of the beer. The liquid began to fizz and bubble as the pill dissolved almost instantly on contact with the alcohol. As far as taste, it would give the beer a little bit of a kick. As if he had poured a few drops of hot sauce in it. If the stranger finished his entire beer he'd experience one hell of a trip, like he'd taken acid. But most of the time people only took one sip and it was enough to make the night a little hazy. Half a pill for a shot, a whole one for cocktails and beer.

He rolled his wrist to gently stir the beer up before he turned around and set it down on the counter in front of the stranger. With a forced but very realistic looking smile he let go of the bottle and wiped his hands on a towel that was sticking out of his pants. "This one's on the house. For playing so good."

[osirisparthena]

A single brow cocked when the bartender brought over the beer and told him it was on the house. Did that bar do that normally? He'd been there before and he couldn't recall receiving a free beer from the bar, but perhaps the rules changed, or this particular bartender liked their show. Or he was hitting on him. Sy contemplated telling him he was interested in his gay ass but decided against it. It was flattering and it got him a free drink and potentially free drinks.

Sy reached for the beer and held the cool, damp bottle between his fingers, staring blankly at it, lost in thought. He needed book a few more gigs if he wanted to make rent this month. Maybe he shouldn't spend so much money at the bar during the shows and he would have a little extra, he thought, but then realized he was getting a free drink then. The avisaille smirked to himself feeling like he won some sort of bottle. That was $4.50 in his pocket for letting the bartender think he was a sexy piece of meat. Maybe, he thought, he could book a few gigs at a gay club. The queers would love that, watching him rock out on stage, maybe shirtless. The thought almost brought a smirk to his lips but at the last moment he realized what he was thinking and the smirk evaporated. Was he that desperate for a free drink? Sy sighed and turned his head slightly, his pale blue eyes sweeping the scene. Was there anyone to hit on? Was he even in the mood to put out the effort to hit on anyone?

His fingers slid over the frosty glass, moving up over the paper label which had grown soggy though it stuck well to the bottle. His shoulders were hunched as he went over money in his mind, his head turning back towards the bar, all but forgetting the girl who had told him he was dull. He was far from dull. She would be lucky to be seen in his presence, let alone share his bed, but she would never get the opportunity. Finally he lifted the bottle towards his lips.

Immediately he could taste something off about the beer, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. A little spice? His brows furrowed and he turned the front of the bottle towards himself so he could read if maybe it was a new blend. He knew some beers had different flavors, but Killians wasn't really known for their adventurous flavoring. Nothing. Sy brought the lip of the bottle to his nose and sniffed, but nothing smelled off. Maybe it was an aftertaste from the drink he'd had before. He took another sip but again tasted something strange about it.

Sy looked at the bottle and thought about whether or not he should drink it. A free drink was a free drink, and he was all about a cheap buzz. Maybe it always tasted that way and he'd forgotten. Not like he bought that brand of beer often. Usually it was whatever came in the cheapest twelve pack and didn't taste like shit. He rolled it off his shoulders and spun around so he could face the crowd, looking out at the people who were there at the club. He held the beer, his elbows reaching out towards his sides to rest on the counter at is back. He took another swig as the music beat loudly in the club, the purple light giving everyone a more mysterious look. He liked the feel of this place, it intrigued him.

Sy felt more relaxed now as he watched the crowd, the lights even began to move to the beat of the bass. It was like they were expanding each time there was a deep bump-bump-bump of the base. His brows furrowed again as he stared at the strange phenomenon and then shut his eyes, shaking his head. What the fuck, was he getting drunk already? He'd hardly drank anything. The boys eyes opened again and he took another swig, but the music and lights still seemed to be synced together. "The fuck?" He whispered, turning away from the lights and back toward the bar, placing the beer back down. Was he getting sick? "Hey, can I get a water?"

[megmasters]

The bartender glanced over towards Meg, his lips pursed together with mild disappointment. This guy wasn't doing anyone any harm and now he was probably going to be out of control or end up vomiting in the middle of the dance floor. Either way it would be his fault and he'd have to take care of it.

He watched him carefully and was glad when he asked for a water. Maybe it would help flush it out of his system faster. He had half hoped the kid would've caught him slipping the drug in his drink but he hadn't been that lucky. He grabbed one of the plastic cups that they used for free samples and poured him a full cup of water and sat it down on the counter. "You feeling alright?" He asked and put his palms against the counter and leaned using them to hold his weight.

Meg took a deep breath, filled with self satisfaction. This stranger wanted to give her lip back then that was fine. He just had to pay the fine. But it didn't mean Meg was done with him yet. Not at all. It was quite the opposite.

Since there was a very likely chance that he wouldn't remember that night in the morning now it was time to have some real fun with him.

Meg swiveled on the bar and set her feet on the stool in front of her and lowered herself onto it and then planted both feet on the ground and took a step away from the bar. The gaudy music blasted through the speakers and both men and women were dancing their night away on the dance floor. She wasn't the dancing type though and she had better plans.

She headed over towards the man again and tilted her head to the side, her hands intertwined behind her back. She looked small standing there, no longer having the advantage of sitting atop the bar for height. She was pretty short.

"What's wrong? Not feeling good all of a sudden?"

[osirisparthena]

Sy took the water and brought it to his lips, chugging it down. It felt good sliding down his throat. Too good, in fact.. It was like he had just eaten a mint and the water had actually been ice. It felt like a blast of ice sliding down his throat, freezing it, only it felt good. His eyes moved to the bartender when he asked if he was alright but he couldn't answer. There was something wrong with the bartenders face, like it was melting slowly. Sy stared at it, mild disgust on his own face. "No, I'm fine." He growled as he turned away, but his head was swimming. The hell was going on with him? He knew it was more than the beer. There must have been something in it. Was... was the gay bartender date raping him?!

He turned to say something to him but caught the girls face and forgot what he was going to do. "What's wrong? Not feeling good all of a sudden?" He couldn't tell if she was mocking him or showing true concern. He couldn't be sure of anything at that point. Her eyes seemed black as coal but at least her face wasn't melting.

"Fuckers trying to rape me." He growled to the girl and gave an angry glare in the bartenders direction. "Thinks he's being slick, but I'm not a fucking queer!" He growled angrily, not caring if he was offending anyone. In fact he didn't even see the other people in the bar anymore. He shut his eyes but the room felt like it was spinning so he opened them back up. "Fuck this, I'm out." He slid off the stool, only his knees gave out when he put weight on them and he slumped to the floor, hitting his head on the bar stool. Sy winced and sat there with a hand pressed to his head, the floor beneath him vibrating and spinning. The fuck was happening to him?

[megmasters]

It was almost too much for Meg to handle. Her lips were curling up into a smirk and she had to force herself not to start laughing right in the man's face. She glanced over to the bartender who was giving her a look of dissatisfaction and shaking his head from side to side. They only drugged people as an emergency. The rare occasion that someone slipped up and let it known in front of a human that they were.. different.

For a moment she thought about just walking away but then that small part of her that wasn't made of ice began to feel bad. Especially when he fell to the floor. The others were beginning to look their way and she could see them running their mouths to each other, muttering things about her and the human. Not that she cared.

They've always talked before. What difference does it make? She thought to herself and waited to see if this pathetic life form would be able to lift himself up or if he'd need help doing it. His rantings about the gay bartender were pretty funny to her. She had known Steven long enough to know that he was far from gay. Although most homophobic men seemed to think he was.

"He's not interested in you. You're not that interesting. Get up." Meg reached her hand out, ready to offer him some help getting up if he wanted it. She didn't want to outright grab him in case he freaked out on her so she just let her hand hover in the air, there if he wanted to accept it.

[osirisparthena]

"He's not interested in you. You're not that interesting. Get up." The lights were still pulsating to the beat of the music, and if someone were to look at his eyes they would see the clear blue iris
was nothing but a thin ring surrounding the black pupil. Even his pupils seemed to be pulsing to the beat.

Sy looked at the girl and then her hand and swatted it away. "I don't need help." He grumbled though clearly he did. He knew something was wrong, but what he couldn't tell. Across the bar a few of Sy's band mates shook their head. It usually wasn't this quick that he would drink to the point of stumbling over his feet, but it was not unheard of to have Sy fall in a drunken stupor. They turned away, pretending they didn't notice.

He managed to make it to his feet using the stool as a sort of ladder to help himself up. In a moment he was standing, holding onto the edge of the bar for support, which was something he was needing more and more of considering the things he was seeing. The whole room seemed to be moving with the music, and so did he. He felt his body moving, though it wasn't. What was happening to him? He felt confused and nervous and very sluggish. All he knew was he had to get the hell out of there.

"Not interesting." He muttered under his breath, grabbing his crotch in a vulgar gesture as he went past the girl, stumbling towards the exit. He hoped he could drive home, otherwise he would pass out in his backseat.