Ozan trudges across the Shady Corner's floor, a metallic screeching noise can be heard with each step. The smell of vomit and liquor hangs off of his ragged clothes. The former, fine dressing ixifar now wears rusted and broken chain overtop faded blue robes. His sashes hang heavily, soiled with mud and cheap beer. As he reaches the bar, his sword can now be seen slug across his back. The weapon has been broken about three quarters of the of the way down the blade. The sound of the jagged, rusted and pitted steel sliding across the chainmail grates against the ears of the patrons. Ozan heaves his ample form up onto a bar stool, and signals for two drinks.
"Hold on that order." Akon softly called to the barkeep in a low, but commanding tone. Having been at the bar herself to order a meal, she looked over at the mess of an ixifar, taking his figure in with a somewhat amused smirk. "You really think the ale will help you forget? Help make it easier? For a time, perhaps, but you're just running."
Ozan turns and looks at the dog and his bones. "Zayz zee dog." Ozan chuckles uncontrollably and his jest, his eyes unable to focus on the werewolf.
The now-human totally misses the approach and words of Akon. He slams his hand down on the bar, "Jeb, vat in zee pit is takin so long? Vere are my drinks?" He checks the bar, maybe the drink was somewhere else? Spotting the smirking Urodeq, and hearing what she says, causes a giggle fit. "I zoght running vas good vor vou? For zee heart, anyvays. And vou are right! Ale vill not help, not anymore. The time haz come vor change" Ozan signals Jeb, "Two zhots of vour best likkour. on ze double"
Grime made of oil, rust and dirt coats Akon's hand as she grasps Ozan's mailed shoulder. Ozan slaps coin on the bar, "I'm pretty zure I am ze paying cuztomer here, not zis warlock." Ozan shurgs the hand off, but looks at Akon eye to eye. "Vy must you rain on my parade?"
Akon studied him quietly, and intently for a moment. "I'm sorry." She said gently, though it seemed her appology's tone indicated it was for more than just the disruption of his drink. "I know what fate's hand deals you can be a rather swift slap to the face..to the soul even..." She smirks a half sad smirk. "More times than not it seems those immortal bastards don't really give a damn for anything but thier own whims and amusement."
Ozan chuckles, "And here I zought zat Muralackrum would like ztrawberry. I should have flavored ze jam like angori stoolz." Ozan signals for the drinks, again. "And vy should zey? It ez no like we can do anyzing to ztop zem. All we can do ez ally ourzelze with the more powerful ones, and hope."
Akon's sad smirk turns somewhat wicked. "Or you could just say fuck it all and do what ever you damn well please. You're going to die some day, all do, even they die, Ozan. Might as well make the best of it mmm? And the bottom of a bottle smelling like shit I'm sure does not bring joy to your soul." She stares into his sorrow filled eyes. "Fires should smell of camel dung, night air should be filled with song, and the sky should be filled with the whispers of a thousand pricks of light." She looks to the bartender. "Two cold waters, Jeb." Then looks back to the once Ixifar, not having moved her hand from his disgusting and grimey shoudler, not seeming to even be phased by his stench or appearance. "Sobriety is harsh, but not -living- is even harsher."
"Zis is living! How do vou know vou are alive unlezz vou can feel death? Feel deztruction! I know zat I am alive, vor I can enjoy ze liquor running through my veins. Tis almost like i can seem ze dreams again!" Ozan pulls out a disk of steel, and throws it over the barkeep's head. The weapon plants itself in the far wall. "Vere are my drinks?"
Akon released his arm, stepping back a bit and shrugs. "Suit yourself. At times it is easier to raise the dead than it is to raise the living from thier self dug graves. But your eyes do not lie, Ozan. You are so utterly misserable in your grief that your mind is muddled and blinded by your sorrow. I still see the viens of your people that run through you, no matter what form your skin now takes. It would be a shame to throw that all away."
"Honestly I think you've gone a little mad Ozan, but to each their own." Leofrick pulls the bones into a bag laying next to him.. "And I am not a dog thank you. Damn fleas." Leofrick begins to scratch his head furiously as if thousands of fleas resided on his scalp.
Ozan finally gets his drink, and downs it in one go. He digs around in his pouch, and retrieves a book. He opens it, and several papers fall out, all over the bar and floor. The man quickly stacks those on the bar back into the book. He drunkenly reaches for the ones on the floor, and looses his balance. The book flies into the air, scattering the formally gathered paper. He lays on the floor, haloed in children's drawings. "Bir hafri hayret coluk," sighs from Ozans lips, before tears begin to stream down his face.
Akon went to catch the falling man, but was unable to, seeing his papers scatter everywhere. She sighed and began gathering them up, her watchful gaze of course seeking any bits of information she could gather without making it seem obvious that she was looking through his things as she gathered them up, and the knelt beside him with the articles, offering them over to the tearful man. "Bread and warm broth." Akon called the bar tender, eyes focusing in on Ozan.
One of Jastrey's familiar figures stepped through the doors, one pale hand guiding the heavy door closed to avoid the loud slam that usually accompanied it. Although Binx wore the hood her heavy winter cloak up and her usual mask over her face, it was not hard to recognize the prominent stitching that covered the suede cloak or the swift but cautious gait that carried the scout towards the fire. She paused in her stride once, the scent of wet dog and drunken bastard penetrating the thin fabric over her nose and mouth.
Disgusting.
The word crossed her mind but not her lips as she moved to stand a few feet from the fireplace, not sparing anyone in the room a glance.
Ozan lays there as Akon gathers the drawings. He takes them from her, and contiunes to lay there. Ozan lays there, thumbing through them. He smiles at some, and chokes back tears at others. He takes note of the angsty Binx as she walks in. "Ah, her cup zpillith over. A zight to cure any woe." Ozan plants his feet under him, and uses the fallen stool to help himself stand. He stuffs the papers back into their book.
Akon rose with him, making sure he was stable once more. She waved over the brothy soup and water and set them infront of Ozan. "Eat." She said gently, her red eyes flashing over towards Binx for a moment, portraying no emotion in particular towards the Uordeq, before looking back at Ozan.
Ozan waves the food away, "It vould just come back up." He puts the book back into its pouch. The drunken human stubles drunkenly towards the door of the Shady Corners. He waves his arm in a wide arch, "Goodbye my dark eyed beauties! May vour husbands bring vou many children!" Ozan, to busy showboating, missed the first step of the stairs, and falls out of sight. -sneak-
"Strange thing." Leofrick watches Ozan leave, then turning to survey the room. "Well time to go." He then stands from his seat, grabbing his bag of bones and his sword, now heavily clawed and walks towards the door. "Can't stand the smell anymore." And exits out the tavern.
The stoic Uordeq by the fire didn't seem to even notice Ozan's drunken buffoonery, standing still beneath her cloak. Although she heard every word she did not let on. She listened as Leofrick gathered his belongings and left, seemingly paying no mind to him either as he made an ironic remark about smell. Unfortunately the stink of vomit and mongrels lingered in the tavern air, even as the patrons trickled out.
A little ways down the bar, a small mound of heavily chewed bones begins to move revealing A very rough looking Leofrick. "Can't you bathe Ozan? I smelled you before you entered the building."