Mirage ~ All Welcome

Raava cast a suspicious eye upon the elf. He reeked of mischief and would be an interesting creature to watch. She hoped heartily that he wouldn't end up like the previous specimens that had to be cast out of Mirage to take care of their violent business.

"I could be inside your head should I choose. But I choose not to be. It's much more entertaining that way."

She tossed a wink Gabriel's way, and immediately his seat turned to a silver mist that slithered away in all directions to disappear.


-------------

A tall cloaked figure sauntered in through the front door of the establishment. The cloak and hood were draped loosely from the lithe form concealing the creature beneath it.

She moved to an out of the way booth and sat. A hand snaked out from under the cloak to tug the hood down farther, keeping the being's face cast in shadow. She knew no one gave half a damn about anyone else here but still she didn't want her beaten face to draw attention. Right now she simply wanted to relax.

Name: Lord Bennington Abingford Croftworthe VII

Race: Human

Age: 36

Description: 5’9” 125 lbs, hazel eyes, neat shoulder-length light brown/dirty blonde hair, extremely fair skin, very thin, always dressed in fine robes or occasionally a dress suit. He sometimes can be found wearing a fedora or a bowler and a pair of small, round spectacles.

Personality: Clever and sarcastic, Bennington will wear your confidence down before the battle even starts. He has no respect for anyone and isn’t afraid to tell you about it. He has poise and mannerisms befitting an aristocrat of his stature. He keeps to himself, confiding only in his groundskeeper, Bourkeley. He has, in the past, been aggravated to the point of a meltdown, and it is thought that he has suppressed his emotions to a disturbingly unhealthy maximum.

Abilities: He is still scarred from childhood disease, and walks with a cane. However, the flow of adrenaline he receives in battle allows him to discard it. When he is fully mobile, he is quite fast, in running, hand speed and decision-making. While he is generally weak, he has well-defined shoulder muscles that allow him to swing with tremendous force. His time in the library has taught him the principles and theories of many forms of hand-to-hand combat. While he tires easily, he can regain his footing quickly. He has a good deal of instinct and has been known to go insane when cornered. He does, however, on a deeply subconscious level, have a fear of conflict and of aggravating his opponents.

Weapons/Equipment: He carries a Smith & Wesson .500 Magnum at all times, and often varies the sword he carries. He also carries two of the finest knives in existence, made from aggregated diamond nanorods and impeccably sharpened, in ankle sheaths.

Biography: Bennington spent his days speculating about what death is like. He finally decided to experience it first time, by dying in the greatest battle of all time. He learned to fight and set off to seek his destiny. He found the Arcane Arena.

Bennington entered the room and gazed disdainfully at the party that had gathered, and chuckled quietly.

"And what, pray tell, have we here?" he asked, brushing a cruel lock of hair from his face, grinning amusedly, "A little... soiree? A get-together? A party? Well? What are you waiting for? Get your Lord a cup of tea, welcome him out of the cold, let him dry off, get him a bit of meat to satiate his regal hunger. Have some blooming respect, for your own sake."

Bennington sat down in a chair by the door, folded his hands over his lap, closed his eyes, and inhaled the scent of the room, moving his hands through the air as if to feel the atmosphere of the scene he'd walked in upon.

"Well?"

Outside of the Mirage, thunder cracked and lightening flashed. The trees that surrounded the place shook violently as wind whipped them all about, the torrential downpour pounded the roof of the building. It had all started so suddenly that it was likely to take every inhabitant by surprise save for the most regular of customers that had, over time, grown used to the shifts.

The old world that lay just outside of the door, the world inhabited by mythical creatures and fair kings was in stark contrast to the brutal, oppressive nature of the ‘world’ they had just come from. Soon the likes of dwarves and elves would begin to enter into the place, albeit cautiously, to enjoy a few drinks before continuing on the path to whatever destination lay at the end of their journey.

By morning the storm would pass and the sun would shine through the trees, warming the face of any who decided to enjoy a few moments of peace and fresh air. The world was inspiring , to say the least, and so full of mystery and adventure that even those with longer then average life spans could only just barely graze the surface of it all.

__

“…Tricky little lass.”

Gabriel stood and brushed himself off, slightly annoyed at having ‘lost’ his seat, but having found the entire run in amusing he decided to mark the ‘waitress’ off as an amusing figure to speak with on occasion. Before the slender, androgynous elf could find himself a new seat two figures entered in rapid succession.

The first was tall and kept his, or her, body concealed from the prying eyes of others. He watched the silent, enigmatic figure for a few seconds as he wondered what was beneath the hood and where the person had just come from. His azure eyes flickered towards the door, though, to see the entrance of a man that was decidedly less pleasant then the soundless one.

Obnoxious, self-important, and many other adverbs came to the mind of the elf. He had no love for anyone such as that man. He was the sort that Gabriel loved to hate, for he was the one that would have put Gabriel down and shunned him as he had been by his ‘friends’ so long ago. Letting out a slightly exasperated sigh, he shook his head and moved towards a booth further back then the one he had been sitting in.

From that point, he would merely observe and go back to his regularly scheduled hours of drinking himself stupid until he forgot about how mad life could drive him.

Raava's grin greeted the sudden shift of existence from one world to another.

She turned and took note of the latest gaggle of creatures to parade through the door. Some were beings manufactured to adorn the newly forged scenery. Some were not. To tell real beasts from illusions was impossible to all but the establishment staff, whom now were garbed in attire befitting the fantasy land that now cradled Mirage.

Raava turned back to the elf. She smoothed out the flowing ruddy brown skirts of her gown and then adjusted the frilly white peasant blouse that enwrapped her upper body. The ringlets of her hair cascaded over her barren shoulders and bounced a little when she turned back to the elf.

"You don't know the half of it... sir. Should you need anything else do not hesitate to ask." Raava turned to tend the latest of customers. As she did a firey haired waitress in a velvet green gown brought a stool to Gabriel's table and sat it beside him. She grinned, gave a slight apologetic bow.

Raava moved across the room toward the brass male creature that sported his arrogance like a crown. She did not reply to him instantly but looked him over before offering Bennington the sweetest of smiles.

"Welcome, sir, to Mirage. Here respect is only shown to those who show it whether you be lord or laborer. That being said, I'd be glad to bring you what every your lordly heart desires should only you ask for it."

Other staff tended to the sudden flood of dwarves, elves and other mythical beings that poured though the doors.

_____________
In her lonely little sector of Mirage, Malyss sneered neath the shadows of her hood at a a group of dwarves that tottered by. They reminded her of Ewoks, small, furry and obnoxious.

She was surprised by the ornate metal work that embellished their primitive weaponry. She eyed an set of battle axes that lay across the back of the final dwarf and the secretly impressed lady Sith wondered how many heads she could effortlessly lop off with the likes of creations.

Her drink arrived and she very slowly nursed it, her mind returning to thoughts of Zad and how she would have loved to break in the Dwarf axes on his sorry ass...

Bennington rose, ran a hand through his hair, and glanced back at the door.

"Come, Bourkeley." he said.

A small man teetered into the room.

"Yes, m'Lord?" he asked.
"Fetch us some food. Don't bother to give it to me if it isn't good." he snarled.
"Yes, sir." the man said, bowing his head slightly.

Bennington scratched his head, closed his eyes, and zoned out. Suddenly, a group of dwarves burst through the door.

"Dear God, Bennington!" Bourkeley shouted.
"The food can't be that bad, you bloody nut." Bennington said nonchalantly.
"No, sir. Look!" Bourkeley said.

Bennington looked at the dwarves disgustedly.

"What are those things, and how can you expect me to even keep my food down with them in the room?" Bennington demanded.

Malyss glared out from under her hood at the commotion. Irritation grew thick in her gut as she beheld the arrogant display of the blond headed man across the room.

"Figures, rid myself of one egotistical creature and another shows up to take his place. Gotta love how everything balances out so... nicely," she muttered into her cup before taking another drink.

She wasn't the only one who'd taken notice of the man's display, various creatures seemed to be offended by Bennington's attitude. This brought a rare smirk to her face. She wondered if a little brawl was to break out as dwarves muttered in hushed voices near by. It'd be nice to watch a bunch of little men dog pile the other.

_____


Raava couldn't help but grin. Mortals were such interesting creatures. They varied so greatly.

She straightened her face and quite seriously informed the offended lord Bennington, "All are welcome here. That is our purpose, to offer all sizes and shapes of creatures a place to escape. If you don't think you can keep your food down due to the appearance of some of our patrons might I suggest that you not eat? Or, if you are interested, you could be moved to a VIP room."

The elf found amusement, the more he watched, in the ego of the stately human. He found it most entertaining and decided that to further his own entertainment, he would see what effect interrupting the man as if he was common riff-raff would have upon him. Gabriel stood, brushing his hands down his clothes so they smoothed out, and then crossed the floor to Raava.

He cut around in front of her, a little too close for comfort, and found himself between her and the human known as Bennington. He flashed her an innocent smile as he spoke up, his smooth voice easy on the ears.

“Music. Music more befitting of this…this new place. That is what I need and you did say anything, yes?”

"You, elf. Yes, you. Perhaps the clash of metal and your screams for mercy will be music enough? What say you to a duel?" Bennington said, drawing his sword, "If respect here is paid to those who show it, perhaps you'll learn to pay it to those who earn it. Draw thy tool, or are you the coward I'd expect to be made of a man of a race of such short stature?"

Gabriel turned to face the man, his face alight with a grin and a giggle escaping his throat. The man was quick to violence as a solution, which just would not do. For a moment the elf was quiet, merely staring at Bennington with wide, emerald eyes, but when he spoke again it was in that same smooth voice as before.

“A duel? Respect? You are worth neither my time, nor respect. So terribly sorry to disappoint, though I must confess I do find great amusement in how you allude to your race being better then mine. Your race of puny, squabbling humans compared to the superior intellect, agility, and long levity of mine. That’s shame that when you taste that last sweet breath of life, I’ll still be alive with many years ahead of me.”

The elf released a devious little laugh

“Now, I believe the lady asked you if you’d like a V.I.P. room. You and I both know that’s the best place for you, because in all honesty this room is just barely too small to fit all of us AND your steadily swelling ego.”

Gabriel turned to face Raava, his smile ever present.

“Now, about that music milady?”

Bennington snarled, grasping the handle of his sword, knuckles turning white. Then, he breathed deeply, and sheathed his weapon.

"I was merely noting that a race of such size and age would be predisposed to cowardice, because you cannot defend yourself, and a thousand year life span does not help you if you are killed halfway into it. Now, if you will not give me reason to respect you, it would be in your best interest," Bennington tapped his sword, "if you would refrain from interrupting me while I am trying to find out what sort of creatures have just entered this building. I am beginning to realise that this world is very obviously not as mundane as it seems."

The elf tilted his head to the side slightly, a little annoyed that the human had the gull to continue running at the mouth about cowardice, among other things. Slowly he turned on his heel, letting his eyes once again rest on the form of Bennington. His tongue slithered over his teeth, pressing against his incisors as he considered his words.

“It would do you some good to size me up a bit better, lest you fail to realize my height is but an inch shorter then you. Now, about that interruption bit-I believe it is you that is interrupting me, so why don’t you sit back, relax, and just keep quiet until I’m done here.”

Gabriel moved to turn, but paused and looked back to Bennington one last time, is if to add something in after-thought.

“Oh, and your respect is worth as much as the mud on the bottom of my boots. Thanks for the offer though, that was sweet of you.”

With that, he turned his back to Bennington once more, trusting Raava would stop any violence that might begin.



"Terribly sorry for the most rude...of interruptions. Some people just don't know when to not butt into a conversation."

Gabriel flashed a smirk as he recalled how he had began the conversation with her, by butting in.

"Thy tongue is sharp, and thy wit is sharper. I have never before met anyone who would defy me so. Though you fear battle, you fear not death. Is this bravery, or do you just not care anymore?" Bennington asked, a bit more compassion and admiration in his voice, but he took a stinging tone as he said the last sentence.

'What a delightful little show', Raava thought as she took a step back and watched the interaction between Gabriel and Bennington. She did not interfere. She would not unless weapons were drawn and since things seemed to have simmered a bit she simply orchestrated a change of music. Something lively with an slight folklore-like feel to it spilled into the establishment.

"Anything else, while I'm right here?" She asked of both creatures.

----------

At the change of music Malyss shook her head and stood. She hated such fairy type music.

She decided to leave and explore the outdoors for a while. Find out what this world really was. She wanted to find the source of this world's power.

“A little of both.”

The sentence was casually tossed over his shoulder to Bennington as he let the music greet his ears. It was just what he had asked for. With a sly smile he took up Raava’s hand.

“Yes, one more thing. A dance, perhaps?”

"I'm starting to take a fancy to you, Mr. Gabriel. But, I suppose I'd best just leave you two otherworldly creatures alone. Thank you, Raava, for the hospitality. I should remember to drop by here should I need anything." Bennington said with a laugh.

"Come, Bourkeley." Bennington said, and the little man followed him out the door.

What shall I do now to occupy my mind?, Bennington thought as he walked through the woods into which he'd wandered.

She took Gabriel's hand and pulled him out into a fairly empty section of Mirage. Raava whirled into his arms, skirts swirling out eloquently, until her back was pressed cozily against the elf's front.

"If you think you can handle me, pretty boy."

She cranked her head around and offered him a quick wink and grin before she spun out from his arms again. She extended a hand as if waiting for him to kiss it in a gentlemanly way. The music picked up a little as most of the eyes in Mirage turned to watch lively couple.

---------------------------------------

The light of day was too much for her sensitive eyes to bear so the eternally disgruntled lady Sith found comfort neath the shade of tangled together tree branches. Malyss pressed further into the forest. It's floor was near barren of plant life due to the tree tops not allowing a sliver of light to slice through their leaves. This made her journey all the easier.

After roaming for a great while she stopped and lept effortlessly straight up into the tree branches. Drifts of moss came loose from the branches and softly fell to the ground. She watched it fall and shook her head. She was getting sloppy. She considered retrieving the evidence of her ascent but didn't. Instead she scaled the tree as if she were a creature native to such an environment. At the very top she hacked her way through the canopy and looked out over the endless sea of emerald that sprawled out before her eyes.

"So horribly green." She mentioned aloud. "Reminiscent of that damnedable place... Naboo."

Her eyes narrowed suddenly as Malyss's acute senses picked up on the nearing of creatures.

Bennington heard the clamping of hooves ahead.

"Steel yourself, Bourkeley. This does not look to be shaping up well."
"Yes, m'Lord." the little man said, drawing a dagger.

Bennington reached the top of a small hill to see that a full pride of centaurs was coming towards him.

"Man. Yes, you. What business have you in our forest?" a larger centaur asked.
"I'll have whatever business I like in this bloody forest. I'll have high tea here if it so pleases me. Who are you to tell a Lord of my stature what to do?" Bennington asked with a scoff.
"Prepare yourself then, human." the centaur said, pulling a large crossbow from off his back.


Name: Marquis Remy L’Adamant
Sex: Male
Species: Human
Appearance: 6’1” 150 lbs, blue eyes, long, curly jet-black hair, rather tan skin, a very solid physique.
Age/Semblant Age: 32
Apparel/Possessions: He favours light materials, often wearing rather frilly, flamboyant outfits. He carries his sword at all times and a backup dagger
Short Bio/Powers: He is a prominent Marquis in France. He has the uncanny ability of always being there to help a friend in need. And I mean always.

Remy burst into the bar, stared at the dancing creatures, looked around wildly, and drew his sword.

"Where did Bennington go?"

“Pretty boy?”

The elf grinned as he moved one hand behind his back and used the other to grasp the ladies hand, bowing and kissing it as a gentleman would before pulling her closer to him and beginning to dance to the music, putting his preternatural agility on display as he moved across the dance floor with her. At one point, as he pulled her into a spin that left her pressed against him in much the same way as before they began to dance.

“I’m hardly a pretty boy, though I don’t doubt you are handful.”

He flashed a wink and spun her back out of his arms, his eyes only flickering to the entrance for a second when the man with a sword came bursting in, demanding to know where Bennington had gone.

“Bennington,” the elf called over his shoulder in a questioning manner. “I believe he went out back to remove the stick in his, well, there are ladies present. You get my drift!”

"Well, at least I know we speak of the same man." Remy said, rubbing his head, searching for the correct word. "Merci beaucoup." He turned on his heel and ran out the door.

-----------------------------

"A coward, I say. You are most certainly a coward. Fight me honourably. With a sword." Bennington yelled. The centaur grinned.
"You are but an animal. And what to hunt an animal with but a bow?" the centaur said, and with that, he fired the crossbow.

------------------------------

Remy ran in front of Bennington, slashing the bolt from the air. He squared his shoulders to the large centaur and waved his sword.
"I think not. If you wish to harm my compatriot, you must harm us both, for neither of us shall abandon the other." Remy gave Bennington a look to let him know he didn't think they would get out of the current situation, and snarled.
"Be prepared to die."

The music played on and some of the patrons began to join the first pair of dancers on the floor. Some danced alone, some with a partner, and still more danced in a small grouping of their companions.

Raava's grin was everpresent. It was wide and bright as if tinted by the fair light of a full moon. And though as deep as darkest midnight, Ravaa's eyes could shimmer as if diamonds were secretly swam in the endless pools of shadow that were the windows to her soul.

As the lively music came to a rousing end Raava spun free of Gabriel's arms. Like a timid spirit she slipped away. The dancing crowds whirled to a halt and Raava slipped away into the joyous mess of them. She was gone but just as she vanished her spirited giggle could carried through Mirage as if the very air were her breath.

--------------------------------------

Like a skulking spider Malyss crept through the high tree branches toward the beasts that she had sensed.

As if she and silence were one, the still becloaked woman made her way to what would most likely be her prey. Stark, silver eyes glared out from behind the shield of emerald leaves offered up by the trees. Malyss did not move, she barely breathed as she watched the scene play out before her.

Gabriel had become entranced by the enigmatic woman and when she spun out of his grasp and disappeared with little more than a giggle he was a bit disappointed. Everyone around him was still enjoying themselves at least and he wouldn't ruin that. Everyone deserved to have a little fun and now that his fun had vanished into the crowd, it was time to return to the liquid fun he had been enjoying before her arrival.

Moving with grace through the crowds, he skirted the rowdiest of bunches and took a seat back at his table. Within a few seconds he was lifting his hand, calling for another pint now that he had just downed the entirety of his fresh one that Raava had delivered.

She perched high in the tree and relaxed. It was a rare thing for Malyss to do and it was unnerving to let her guard down just that little. She knew of the sinister things that lurked in the murk shadows and wound themselves up in masquerade, things that would spring and slaughter at any given chance. Her world had ever been one of survival of the wariest.

But there, in the breeze, with the soft rustling of leaves all around she decided to relax. She deserved it. After all was said and done, to watch others kill and be killed, would be a wonderfully grim treat.

"Yes, be prepared to die." She muttered while resting her back against the trunk of the tree. She lightly applauded Bennington and the centaurs in the distance. "Hurry up and get on with the slaughter already."

____________________________

Twisting and turning through the growing crowds of strange beings, a little waitress made her way to Gabriel, drink on tray. Someone on the dance floor stepped on the girl's dress tail and she came to an akward halt She fumbled to recover the nearly spilled drink.

"A little room people, please. Drink coming through."

She gathered the remaining bits of her self control together and proceeded to Gabriel's table. She smiled and gently placed the tray on the table just as someone bumped her from behind. She jolted forward onto the table and knocked the elf's drink into his lap.

With eyes all full of horror the girl ripped off her apron and started cleaning the mess.

"I'm so sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. This drink was special for you, from Raava..."

She continued frantically dabbing madly at the mess with her apron and started trying to clean the mess off of the elf himself.

Gabriel was caught completely off guard by the waitress and her run away drink. All he could do was let his mouth fall open in a small gasp of surprise as the liquid crashed down onto his lap and made a shiver run up his spine. He looked to the waitress, about to tell her not to get so upset about it, but then she began to clean the mess off of him. He jumped back closer to the wall, holding his hands out, stumbling and stuttering over words, obviously a little startled and uncomfortable now.

"HEY! Hey..that's okay, don't worry about it! I'll clean it, or it'll dry..just clean the table, not me, okay?"

He offered up a nervous smile, still holding his hands out a little bit. Raava had sent him a drink and that made his smile brighten up some when the information was processed at last.

"...Raava sent that for me? Really?" His grin widened even more. "That's nice of her, I'm Gabriel. What's your name?"

Bennington swung at the centaur leader with his sword. The centaur blocked the shot with his massive forearm. The sword stuck into his arm a bit, and he simply wrenched the sword from Bennington's grip. At the same time, he grabbed Remy and Bennington by their throats and hoisted them into the air. Remy writhed in pain and, with a sudden burst of energy, stabbed his sword through the arm that was holding Bennington. Bennington hit the ground with a thump and immediately, he crawled back into a tree. The centaur hurled Remy aside like a ragdoll and ripped the sword from his arm.

"Stay still, and I may make a straight shot to your head. Your end can be quick. If you continue to writhe, I may miss." the centaur told Bennington.
"I'll go shot for shot with you, beast of burden." he spat, and the centaur fired. The bolt ripped into Bennington's shoulder, and Bennington gritted his teeth and spat into the dirt.
"And what of my end of the deal? A shot for a shot is, indeed, fair," Bennington laughed as he pulled his .500 Magnum from a holster and shot the centaur through the heart. Immediately, the other centaurs, who had formed a ring to watch the fight, scattered.
"The human carries a thunder-stick!" one screamed as he tore away from Bennington.

Bennington brushed himself off, and staggered over to Remy.
"Dearest, are you alright?" he asked Remy.
"It is you who should be worried about himself. Your shoulder is pierced through." Remy noted. Bennington laughed nervously.
"It's quite alright. I'll just need a little stretch." Bennington said. As he tried to move his arm, he fell into the dirt, screaming in pain.
"We need to get back to the bar." Remy said grimly.

I'll pass on the setting change. I don't want anyone to say I used the setting change to get out of trouble. XD