[MythicDusk]

The bar was quiet on the outside, faint light echoind through the windows, the door creaked when it was pushed open. The patrons were murmuring quietly amongst themselves and Al, the bartender, with his softly glowing eyes, his thick, bushy moustache and neck as thick as a bull's didn't lend much to the 'welcoming' atmosphere of the bar.

The Man's Arms. Named like a pub in the old country, where the people who sat at the bar, who huddled around tables remembered fondly. They could remember dancing in flowing silks, laughing and leading travelers astray. Now they sat, their coats and hats battered, their once handsome, too-sharp smiles fallen from their lips. Al cleaned another glass and carefully hung it up.

The smoke from the cigars and cigarettes was oppressive, but Al didn't mind it. He didn't mind a lot of things. He didn't mind the too loud, distant, booming, tinny music. The music that sounded wrong to the ear but so right to the heart. It was a song of leading astray, of sharp teeth tearing into flesh in the night, of promises of eternal life in exchange for one simple favor. A voice begging to be given your name.

Al placed a glass on the bar and filled it before one of the patrons even spoke, sliding it towards the slumped figure, letting the cool glass touch his pale knuckles, watching with interest as the pale fingers twitched like a spider's death throes before curling in on themselves, the patron murmuring something before finally unclenching his hand and wrapping thosel ong, pale fingers around the glass.

There was something wholly, intrinsically wrong about the bar. The wood that looked so unlike any wood anyone else had seen. The bartender with scarred palms, glowing eyes and a body like a heavyweight boxer. How wherever you went, you felt like you were being watched.

And all Al did, was clean another glass.

[Jaykobell]

This place reeked of dread. A place where a lot of questionable folks would hang out. A place where a kind soul would get crushed and led astray to a point of no return.

It was the perfect place. Maybe she would manage to find some clues here. The shadier, the better.

She had gotten wind of this place from a lot of fae. Many spoke of this place and how it might hold a piece of the puzzle she was trying to figure out. There was a mysterious figure there that might help, they had said. At this point, any lead was good. It was better to have something, than nothing.

She paid little attention to the atmosphere. Paid little attention to the folks in this place. At first glance, she was but a small, petite woman who was completely out of her element, her blank frown capable of being easily mistaken for fear or uncertainty. She was a no-nonsense sort of person. She just wanted to see if this place might have information. Everything else was none of her business.

The bartender grabbed her attention right away. There was something about him; the same way, she assumed, he would be able to tell that there was something about her. Word around the block said that he was used to fae folk. She would get to see if those rumors were true.

She sat down at the end of the bar, away from the other patrons, in silence. She ought to order something, she figured, but alcohol really wasn't her thing.

[MythicDusk]

Al watched the newcomer out of the corner of his eye. The patrons did, too. He could feel their gaze shifting as if it was a physical creature, prowling across the hardwood floors to settle on the woman's back. He could feel them all judging her, sizing her up, deciding if she was a threat that needed to be dealt with, or if it was someone they could let continue her business.

Al felt his shoulders sag, just a little, when their gazes slowly peeled away and back to eachother. She had been given the clear.

With that, he padded over, filling a glass with chill water and placing it in front of her. "Let me know if you want anything else."

[Jaykobell]

She had still been debating between asking for something non-alcoholic, or going for something with a little bit more of a buzz. Those who stared could continue. She couldn't care less. If they had a problem with her, she would let her magic put them in their place.

Before she could make up her mind, it was as if the bartender had read it for her. She looked down at the clear glass containing an equally clear liquid. Slowly, she reached for the glass, and she took a few sips. Admittedly, nothing could beat icy cold water.

She put the glass down gently, barely a noise. She stared at the many liquors stacked against the wall in front of her, behind the bar. "You know of fae?" she asked the bartender, her voice soft, but with a definite edge. Her gaze remained on the liquors, even as she spoke.

[MythicDusk]

Al could feel every spine in the bar stiffen. The conversation once again stopped, every set of air turned to watch the newcomer. He could hear the whispers that began flying from lips, whispers of old names that had been long since spoken, of theories, of betrayals and betrayers. It was like a seelie court was being held in his bar.

He silenced them with a simple roll of his shoulders.

"P'rhaps I do. Why d'you want to know?"

His words were slow, ponderous. Careful and clear. He shifted to cross his arms across his broad chest, his thick fingers wrapping around his own biceps, the light dusting of red on his knuckles standing out against the starched white of his shirt.