Welcome to Gaia! ::

Spiraling stretched lazily before rolling out of the inn bed onto his feet. The felicorn had commandeered the room after the former occupant had been evicted from the tavern downstairs. He grinned, since he had been responsible for said occupant being evicted through the plate-glass window. "Ah, emotions," Spiraling chuckled, "how unpredictable you make people when you wither and die."

The felicorn pulled his trousers on and cinched his belt. Like many of his kind, his abilities at first glance were those of famine, though with a cruel twist. Spiraling's particular talent was in creating what he called 'emotional famine', withering away a faekat's emotions until they were little more than a walking husk. More often than not, it resulted in his victims attempting to drown their 'deadness' in alcohol, picking fights just to try and feel anything, or committing suicide to escape.

Spiraling whistled to himself as he took the steps down to the tavern and stepped outside, shielding his eyes from the morning sun. "Ugh, too bright out. How can Ymir stand it?" Thinking about about the felicorn leader had his mood souring momentarily. The cold, calculating Ymir was plotting something, no doubt something that would result in massive genocide, but he was playing his cards close to his vest this time around.

"b*****d," he muttered as he walked down the street, eyes flickering back and forth for a worthy victim. "Wish Ymir and Dante would let the rest of us in on what his big plan is."

Spiraling paused as he squinted down the street. A dark-furred fae was walking his way, and something seemed... odd, about her. "Hmm," the felicorn stroked his chin in thought, "what is she? Asurelight? Asliar? Damn, I don't recall." He ducked into the general store and watched through the dirt-stained window. Spiraling was curious about this female, and was willing to bet she would have some delicious emotions to wither away.

"Interesting," Spiraling muttered as he watched the strange female walk towards the tavern. "There's something... 'off', about her." Sensing a challenge, he spun around to the shop-keeper. "You," he barked, watching the shop-keeper jump and cower, "what can you tell me about that strange woman?"

The shop-keeper gulped heavily, eyes darting between the door and the imposing felicorn staring him down. "Ah, to be honest, sir, nobody in town knows much about her, other than her name. Rumor has it she's a powerful witch, one with a hatred of men most foul. All the men in town tread carefully around her, and even that doesn't always save us."

Spiraling chuckled as he only half-concentrated on the terrified shop-keeper. By the time he was done, all the fae's emotions would be withered, save fear and hatred. The felicorn always found that an amusing combination to leave people in. "The men of this town are weak, shop-keeper, including you. Perhaps I should send Imminent here to whip you weaklings into shape." He grinned at the thought, knowing the black felicorn of Death would slaughter the town without breaking a sweat.

The felicorn finished his destroying of the shop-keeper's emotions before leaving the shop, grinning as he heard the fae begin to mutter hateful things about some of the town citizens. He made his way across the street and headed into the tavern, stepping to the side in order to let his eyes adjust. Spotting the strange female, he assumed a casual, uncaring air as he shoved his way through the sparse crowd and up to the bar.

"Bartender," he waved a gold coin in the air. "Whiskey. And leave the bottle." Taking a long pull from the bottle, he angled himself so he could keep an eye on the strange woman from the corner of his eye. If she tried anything, he would be ready. Perhaps today would prove an interesting day indeed.

Spiraling watched the woman as she talked to a fae at a nearby table. He had caught her glance, and saw the all-too-common look of amusement, and the felicorn knew exactly what it was about. Tamping down his flare of anger, he instead focused on the fae she was talking to. A tavern regular, one who was notorious for flirting with anything with tits.

He thought about destroying the man's emotions just to mess with the woman, but they stood up and were heading to the door before he could concentrate. Grumbling in annoyance, he spun back around to face the trembling barkeep. "You," he pointed a finger, making the barkeep cringe, "I want information. On that woman."

The barkeep gulped and set the glass he'd been cleaning on the counter. "I-, I can't tell you anything, sir." He yelped as Spiraling reached across the counter and grabbed his vest. "I swear! Please, anything you do to me pales to what she'd do in retaliation!"

Spiraling narrowed his eyes as he focused his mind onto the barkeep... and blinked at the pure fear that was coursing through the fae. "Interesting," he muttered, shoving the barkeep back and picking up his whiskey, "you fear her more than you fear the loss of your own mind." He took a long, hard slug of liquor. "What is it about this woman that has this whole town cowed like sheep to the slaughter?"

He took his bottle and moved to the corner of the tavern and waited. Instinct told him that once the woman was down with Mr. Flirtation, she would be back. Spiraling smiled. He would be ready.

"Back alone, eh?" Spiraling murmured from behind his ale, a half-smile flitting across his lips. "And what did you do with the poor b*****d, I wonder." The felicorn was surprised to find himself actually curious about the witch's victim, if he even survived, or perhaps he was little more than a bubbling pool of goo by now.

Spiraling stood up and stretched lazily. Weaving through the crowd, he could feel the tension began to bubble like a cauldron. It was delicious to feel, though he was slightly annoyed by the fact that he wasn't the sole cause of it.

The felicorn slid onto a bar stool and tapped his empty mug. "Barkeep, my mug appears to be empty. Surely I am mistaken." He grinned as the barkeep scrambled to refill the mug, and considered it a miracle that the ale remained (mostly) in the mug as it was set before him. "Guess I was mistaken, guess I will have to get my eyes checked." He took a long pull and licked the foam from his lips even as he angled himself so he could keep an eye on the woman. He was patient, he would wait for her to make the first move. After all, it was easier to slide a blade between someone's ribs when they were too busy to defend.

((Long is good! I would rather have plenty to work with than only two or three f'ing sentences to work with.))

Spiraling chuckled as he set the ale on the scarred counter-top. "It's one thing to wear the symbol of Anarchy," he said with a smile that didn't match his eyes, "it's another to understand what it means, and to honor it as such." He was just as obvious in looking her over as she had been about him. "And it's few that understand that even within Anarchy, there is Order. Can't have one without the other, after all." He took a long pull from the mug before setting it back down.

The felicorn spun around so he was facing her and leaned against the bar. He had to admit, this witch intrigued him. He didn't have to use any of his abilities to practically smell the vanity and hatred that came off her in waves. The vanity amused him, but the hate, it was almost choking. He could barely resist licking his lips from it's strength.

Let's see how well she handles surprises, he thought in amusement. "I must admit, I am a bit... 'confused'," his smirk said otherwise, "am I confused on my own gender? The hate you have for men is so strong I could smell it before you even came through the door." He hid his grin behind his mug as he pretended to drink. Ah, the joy of mind games, especially with the vain, haughty ones. True, at times it was like waging war on an unarmed peasant, but something about her promised some interesting moments.

Spiraling watched impassively as the male tore through the tavern, going so far as to give the hapless fae a kick to the ribs when he came too close to the felicorn. He chuckled as the cursed fae began to hump another, and set his mug on the counter. Turning his gaze towards them, he concentrated.

Within moments, his frantic movements slowed, though they never stopped. The manic light in the faekat's eyes wiltered, withered, then finally died. Spiraling smiled as he turned back to the witch. "Do you know what I enjoy about love, and in your case, hate?" He took a long pull from his mug. "They're both sides of the same tarnished coin. That coin being Desire. Without Desire, there is Apathy."

He pointed to the cursed fae, who's movements had become little more than mechanical at this point. "Cute curse, or hex, whatever you call it. Amplifying his desires to where he couldn't resist. Rather refreshing, I admit, since I usually destroy emotions." Spiraling leaned back on his stool, the amusement in his eyes replaced with calculation. "Your hatred is so thick, I would be choking on it if I weren't blunting it back as it comes within my breathing space. It's been... a long time since I've felt any emotion so strong. And it interests me."

He growled as he looked behind the bar. "Damnable coward." He pointed to another fae and snapped his fingers. The fae cringed. "You. Behind the bar. Now. I desire more drink, and I'm sure she," he jerked his head to the asarlai, "would probably appreciate some more drink also."

Spiraling watched in amusement as the witch took the bottle and headed for the door. Draining his mug and setting it on the table, he slid off the stool and watched as she stepped outside. The moment the door shut, his smile disappeared as quickly as a wisp of smoke. Calculating eyes scanned the mostly empty bar before the felicorn headed for the door himself.

He stepped outside and though the sun blinded him momentarily, no emotion registered on his face as he waited for his vision to restore. Holding on to the few emotions Spiraling felt anymore was becoming more and more difficult, and that probably would have angered the felicorn if his anger hadn't died off years ago. More and more, the only way he could feel anything was to destroy the emotions of those around him.

A flash of color caught his eye and he turned to see the witch walking down the road. "Cute, witch," he muttered tonelessly, "I am many things, but not so foolish as to follow the wolf into it's own den." His smile was more mechanical than anything else, and he turned on his heel and walked down the other way. He knew he had the witch's interest just as much as she held his. The felicorn also knew that, since he truly had no curiosity left, that she would probably come hunting for him eventually, especially once she realized he had spurned her 'invitation'.

This time, the cruel smile that flickered across his lips was genuine. The day was truly proving interesting.