ROLEPLAY HQ - adherent-of-the-sun

The bench underneath him stung his legs through pants, dyed a burnt umber, that hid the absolute frail figure beneath their stitched hems. Their owner, leaning with an arm propped along the length of the wood supporting his back, slid a cigarette from a case stamped with the outline of a honeybee. A curious item, for an even more curious individual. Omen lifted it to his mouth, flipping the case shut with an audible pop before placing it back in his right hand pocket, twisting his fingers in that space to retrieve his lighter. With expert precision, he clicked it to life, lazily raising it to his mouth, lighting the end of that same cig. The tiny flame reflected in those auric eyes of his, half closed against the dying light of day. He was patient enough to wait for the woman who had called him the day before last, claiming to have someone she wished to introduce him to. Normally, Omen would have turned down an offer such as this. Why he had accepted was beyond his knowledge– though that was a lie, and he knew it. Moira was smooth with her words, and even in all the years that the reaper had walked the blessed earth's surface, he still happened to fall prey to such creatures as herself. Every. God. Damn. Time. Biting down on the end of that coffin nail, he grimaced and took a long, exaggerated drag before leaning back to survey the tiny stars beginning to flicker into view amongst the ink spreading across the bruised palette of the sky above. Exhaling, the smoke curled into the atmosphere, rising and rising until it faded. When it did, his flaxen gaze closed, ash lashes fluttering against his pale…too pale…cheeks. Time was passing slowly as of late. Slowly, his vision came back and he turned to nonchalantly cast a glance at his watch, hands forever frozen on 8:14 a.m.. He took another puff before he moved to sit up and found the very bane of his extended existence crossing the road towards him. She was elegant, as all women are, but Moira was feline in nature, a

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nd as conniving as a clever fox. 'If you are so keen on staying to yourself…then why do you linger in public. Face it, O,' she had hissed through the line next to his ear, 'You need some kind of human interaction. You can't get enough of us. It's why you 'people watch.' You crave the mortality.' He'd almost denied it. In fact, his jaw had parted and he'd been in the process of hanging up on her when she had snatched his attention back to her shrill tone. 'I'm convinced that if you experience the slightest hint of humanity, maybe you'll be less of a dick and actually give two shits about how you interact with people. So– Wednesday. Five o'clock. Meet me at the station.' Click. He'd sworn he wasn't going to go. He'd absolutely sword to whoever the hell was still in charge of his long thread of fate, that he was going to stay in his dark studio apartment and not give her a second thought.

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And yet here he was, watching with narrowed eyes as the woman smiled at him charmingly. "You ready? Put that thing out and let's go, were late." "And-" he stated as he obeyed, albeit slowly, "who's fault is that. You said five o'clock, it is five fifteen." She turned her dark face towards him and smiled so big it touched her eyes and lightened them. He sighed and got up as she pulled on his sleeve before he offered her an arm. She took it gratefully and chattered nonsensical bullshit about her recent trip to London, which he had seen too many times. Tuning her out, except to listen when she urged him left and right down the busy city streets. She earned ogling eyes as she swept down the sidewalk in the dress she had chosen for herself, a too short thing that was probably made for someone in their teens. The man stared straight ahead, though when one man gave her a whistle, his head snapped to the side and he glared, eyes flashing angrily. Moira paid them no mind, moving to steer him towards a back alley. Normally, he would have no qualms about such a place, but with a woman as desirable as Moira currently attached to his bicep… Omen was on high alert. If only for her sake. Never for his own. She lifted a dark hand to show a ticket to the doorman and, after he had scanned it, he shifted to the side to allow the duet entrance into Illusions, a speakeasy that was themed for every month of the year and booked out for months…how the woman beside him had gotten last minute seats… he didn't even want to know how long she had been planning this. The lady was stunning, her curly hair just reaching her ebony shoulders. In the dim neon light of the hidden bar, her fringe dress suddenly made sense. He'd been wondering why it mimicked the American style of the 1920's. Now, here, he understood. The theme….the bar itself…he almost groaned in annoyance, but held it back with some effort on his part. Omen felt Moira tense next to him before she pulled him towards a lone silhouet

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te. "Alexx!"

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@raptor

Alexander was the god of beauty and—in some iterations—love. Lust, sex, attraction, they all tended to be interlocked, and Alexander governed all of it with the help of several of his cupids. He had been a god for several centuries now, young in god standards perhaps though alive long enough to have watched the rise and fall of several kingdoms. He liked being there for it; liked walking amongst the humans, seeing and listening to what they spoke about, watching people fall in love around him. And, he was very much a busybody. He spent more time than he was supposed to among mortals. He could not help it! They had advanced so much, and had made so many interesting gadgets. He liked their cars, their overpriced coffee, their trashy television. He felt like he thrived during this day and age like he had not in a very long time. It was another day, doing things he was not necessarily supposed to be doing. Then again, who made rules for the gods? He was sat at a bar, running his fingertip along the rim of his glass of champagne. It had not been hard at all for him to get a ticket here, and he was meeting a friend. There were three cupids among the people of the bar, always at his beck and call. Their appearances were not always consistent, though they were always beautiful. There was Eris, Kore, and Nyx; Eris stood behind Alexander now at his barstool, though even before Moira had called out for him, Eris nudged Alexander and stepped away. He had been there to seemingly hide the appearance of Alexander, considering there had been someone else fawning over him towards the other side of the counter. They were only there as a precaution, and because they, too, like their deity, enjoyed the hustle and bustle here. Alexander glanced over his shoulder when he heard Moira call out to him, and smiled, turning in his seat towards her. (edited)

He slid off the barstool, to go to them. “Moira, I am glad you could make it,” he hummed out to her, looking over her dress before he reached out to hug her. “You look amazing, as always, of course.” He stepped away from her then, to look to the man beside her. Alexander wore a sweater that fell off his shoulders, several rings on his fingers. (His cupids had tried to insist he dress the part of a flapper, but Alexander had denied it, saying something about how unfair it would be if he took all the attention.) “And who is this?” Alexander asked. “Alexander. It is nice to meet you,” he said, offering his hand to him. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

The lithe figured male slid from his barstool, having turned his undivided attention from a gleaming glass of alcohol to the beautiful female that was still currently attached to Omen, the scars underneath hidden by a long-sleeved black turtleneck accented by the copper scarab necklace held by two chains. Moira let go as soon as they were within a couple feet, allowing her counterpart to relax his arm as she bounded towards the man. 'Alex.' Omen did not miss the way the man surveyed the lady, admiring the dress that barely did anything to cover…anything. She thanked Alex, doing a small twirl as if she had been asked for it. While she was thin, Moira did well with her fashion choices– she always had, and this outfit was no exception. The reaper hid his hands inside his pockets, those cancer sticks in their honeybee case brushing oh-so-temptingly against his knuckles. Looking around, he chose to put to memory each and every single exit. There were only two, the one behind them, and a door behind the bar labeled with a brightly lit sign hovering just above its frame. Moira slid into Alex's arms, wrapping her bangled wrists behind him and squeezing the male as if he were going to disappear on her in a heartbeat. Their embrace was short enough, and seeing as O had no connection to her romantically, it was a simple gesture of familiarity from Mo that happened too frequently for him to be even remotely concerned about it. In fact, if one cared to examine his featured, the nimble creature may even appear to be…bored. However, he shifted his weight unconsciously to his right leg, then back to his left. He was out of his element. Uncomfortable in the midst of so many people in a single, small, space. "Sorry we're late!" The excited trill of her voice raised then as she continued. "My cabby took a wrong turn and dropped me off a couple blocks away from where I was supposed to meet Omen." Relaxing her grip, the beautiful woman turned her brown eyes to the man who had escor

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ted her to the speakeasy. Omen turned his head slowly back to the two, feeling her gaze, and watched as she leaned away and gestured towards him. Moira had stepped to the side slightly, her signature large hoops catching the hazy light. He couldn't help it, he stiffened slightly, standing a little more straight. "Alex, this is Omen. We know each other through work!" Wracking his brain, Omen brought up as much information as he could about the man in front of him. If he was a customer, that meant that Moira had, once upon a time, sold one of her clients' collector vehicles to the man. Or someone who had introduced the two. It very well might have been a car show with their collectibles that they had crossed paths….With Mo's extremely approachable nature and tendency to get almost overly comfortable with strangers, Omen couldn't exactly say he could gage the man's intentions at all. Nor did he wish to.

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Seeing Alexander extending a hand, Omen mirrored the movement, albeit a bit hesitantly the faint lines of his scars just barely peeking out from his sleeve. Moira stood aside, smiling wider. But Omen wasn't about to take her hint at all. He didn't have the desire to smile. And besides, it would appear fake even if he did. So he just nodded instead. "Omen runs a shop down off of Florence– we worked together years ago when I was still downtown at the old location. Why he left us to be surrounded by knick knacks is beyond me." He shot her a look, wondering how this was at all important for the man to know, which earned himself a laugh from her lips. Withdrawing, he exhaled softly and left that hand outside his pocket, his features giving only the hint of discomfort away. "Moira," he breathed quietly, "has a talent for befriending many different kinds of people." Briefly, Omen paused, and then continued. "I often think that she is the collector of rarities, not myself." Now, he did smile, his eyes finding Moira's as he did so, a soft and gentle, genuine gesture. Moira relaxed slightly as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and then shifted her black clutch to her other hand. "I'm going to get myself a drink, do you want anything else, Alex? Omen?" Omen shook his head no, and watched as she waited for Alex to answer before she bounded away, ducking in between two other women who were also vying for beverages.

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@raptor

Alexander smiled when she twirled and clapped for her. He had liked Moira, since he had first met her, and used her almost exclusively now for any buying or selling of show cars. Money was not really a concern for him, and as such he doled it out whenever he saw something he was interested in. “Omen, it is nice to meet you,” Alexander said, smiling. He had the smallest of an accent; almost transatlantic, though barely yet noticeable. He shook his hand, and if he noticed the scars, nothing was said, and there was not even a glance down to them. “Oh, wow, really? That sounds so nice. You will have to show me his shop sometime, Moira,” Alexander told her, dropping his hand and folding them together in front of him. He gave a small laugh when he heard Omwn, nodding. “Of course. She has always had a penchant for finding the nicest of things,” he hummed out. “Oh, please, if you could. Anything strawberry,” he told Moira, glancing over his shoulder as she walked to the bar. “How long have you known Moira?” he asked when he turned back to Omen. “I… guess I am a little bit of a collector of rarities, myself,” he said with a laugh, shrugging. “I have bought some show cars from her in the past.” @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

"Tell him to show it to you himself!" Omen stiffened at her response, listening to her as she erupted into giggling before she nodded at the request for something strawberry flavored, of all things. And off she bounded, like a rabbit in a snowstorm, quickly fading into the background as if she belonged there. It was a gift of hers, to fit in wherever she went... Omen greatly envied that, he found. And perhaps that why Moira slightly annoyed him at times. It was so easy for her. To be able to be... human. The reaper twisted his stunning amber eyes back to the other, though they were the color of a rich bourbon now, hidden by the low light of Illusion's atmospheric aesthetic. Alex had laughed politely at Omen's statement, and the dark haired man found he could only withdraw so far without appearing rude. He was already stand-offish... best not to make it apparent that he definitely did not wish to be where he was. A man passed behind him and his attention flickered, slightly, as the heavy scent of cigarette smoke wafted in his direction. Like ambrosia, it called to him. His fingers that were still hidden within the folds of his pockets itched that case... When he was prompted with the inquiry as to the length of time he had been friends... and friends was a strong term... with Moira... the creature of darkness and death beyond what the world could even begin to fathom flushed, actually flushed, although it was just slightly. "A couple years, at best. Perhaps four?" He paused, hesitating before he revealed more about himself. "When I first moved here, she was the first h-- person, to invite me into a... friendship." His slip up wouldn't be that big of a deal, but he still found it irritating enough to raise the hair on the back of his neck. This guy.... he didn't like how smooth he was. From his words, to his movements... as if they were rehearsed, they were executed perfectly, without discomfort. It was... unnatural. But-- everything s

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eemed unnatural to the corrupted being. Meanwhile, Alex continued speaking. Some....some show cars? His gaze slipped behind the shorter statured individual and he caught Moira raising a drink with a stranger. Why wasn't he surprised? Attention wandering back to the man in front of him, he raised his hand to pull at the edge of his turtleneck underneath a heather plaid cropped button up. The scarab around his neck caught the light as he shifted his weight to his opposite leg. How did he respond to such a statement? 'Oh wow, you must be rich?' Definitely not. He knew the price range that Moira's collector vehicles played amongst... in the high thousands to almost millions. If this man were telling the truth, which, for some reason, he did not doubt he was, then that would mean that some was a little more than just one or two. "'Just' cars?" Surprising himself, he dared not show his own shock at his audacity to offer up a question that would insist that Moira sold more than just that. "Sure you are not interested in something other than cars that she has to offer? Moira is a lovely individual. She attracts a lot of attention wherever she goes..." He nodded towards her, where she was currently, although probably not purposefully, flirting with that same man at the bar, seeming to have forgotten that she was sent to retrieve Alexander's beverage for a brief moment. Brief. "It is unlike someone to purchase from her without asking her if she is devoted to someone or not." His eyes flashed as he turned his gaze back, though it was not jealousy, or even the hint of a fight echoing in those depths. Facts were facts. He merely had the guts to state them, however blunt. It was something he had to work on, apparently. @raptor

Alexander smiled when he heard Moira, though he did not press the man in front of him about it. He could tell that Omen seemed a little reluctant to be here alone with him, so he would not prod any, even if he wanted to. He would let Omen take the lead of the conversation, at least until Moira returned, that was. He smelled the cigarette smoke and glanced to the man that passed them, his nose wrinkling briefly. That was one of his least favorite things about humanity. At least it had seemed like it was becoming less of a bad habit as time went on. Hopefully it would be completely eradicated soon enough. “Oh, wow,” Alexander hummed out, turning back to Omen easily, the gesture barely noticeable. “I have not known her that long.” He thought, at least. Time was strange here. It was hard for him to keep track of how long it had been. His own brow raised when he heard Omen, and his lips quirked up at the corners. He had not thought it seemed like Omen was jealous of them, though perhaps that what it was? It still did not seem like that. “Oh, my, no. Don’t get me wrong, Moira is beautiful, of course, but… I am not interested. You’re not supposed to mix business with finance, right? That’s what people say?” It seemed like a human thing to say, and he did suppose it made sense. He saw the look in his eyes, and realized Omen was not jealous at all. So he was right. “Is there a reason you are asking?” he hummed out, his head cocked to the side. Omen did not seem interested romantically in Moira. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Catching the quick look of distaste that Alex displayed, Omen let out the softest of breaths in amusement. He, himself, had taken quite quickly to the tobacco and nicotine addiction that ran rampant for a time. Moira had once asked if he would ever switch over to vaping, but he had simply lit another cigarette, one right after another. 'If I wanted sweetness, I would not smoke.' She had also wrinkled her nose at the scent of the smoke that had wafted towards her, just as Alex did, however briefly it had been displayed. And that had been the end of that conversation. Needless to say, Moira had not taken her breaks with him while they were associates. Not that long... Omen wondered what 'long' meant to the more elegant man than himself. Where he took to the shadows, Alexander seemed to enjoy being...light. He winced inwardly. The reminder of light... causing him to want to shrink away indefinitely. A small twitch of the male's lips brought him back from thoughts he would rather not delve deeper into, however. Ah-- he'd come off too strong, perhaps. Immediately, Alex denied it, and once again, O believed him. He was too easy to follow. It..unnerved him. At the inquiry as to why he was asking, Omen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. "She attracts the wrong kind of attention, she is too young to do so... it makes me worry for her." His fingers twitched behind his nape. Ah. Shit. He'd slipped. Moira and him were supposed to be, appeared to be, and were legally, around the same age. Not that the individual in front of him knew that. He almost sighed with relief when Moira returned, a short glass of...something.. in hand, and the strawberry pink drink in the other, of which she extended towards Alex. "A Rhubarb and Strawberry Collins for you, and... an old-fashioned Brandy, for you, Omen." Her other hand stretched towards the dark haired reaper and he glanced down at the drink before giving her a look. "It's made how you lik

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e it--- like I said, 'old-fashioned.' Though I can't imagine why you would like such an outdated recipe...take it!" She pushed it towards him and he took it, if only so she wouldn't spill the drink on herself.He hadn't wished to drink. It wasn't... it didn't... but he took it regardless, aiming to just hold it for the night. Though the scent of the Holland gin was hard to resist. @raptor

“Ah, I can understand that. It is good that you are watching over her, then,” Alexander hummed out to him. “But do not worry. I do not think I am the wrong kind of attention, at least,” he said, and laughed, shrugging his shoulders. Omen did not look that much older than Moira, Alexander thought, but perhaps he was wrong. He had thought he understood how humans had aged. Alexander glanced back when he heard Moira and smiled, reaching for his drink. “Thank you,” he hummed out to her, taking it to sip at. “It’s so good. You always have had such good taste,” Alexander said, giving a glance to Omen when he said it, giving a small laugh. “What is the shop you run anyway, Omen?” he asked him, sipping at his drink as he spoke to him. If Moira had wanted them to meet, Alexander had to assume there was a reason for it. It was not like it was difficult for him to speak to people, and as such he had no problem doing what he could to make sure he meet whatever of standards Moira had for this. “I do hope it is something exciting, if you left such lovely company like Moira behind.” @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑 (edited)

Omen nodded absentmindedly at the coffee-haired man's words, though his gold gaze flicked slightly along the lines of the other's silhouette, tracing the haloed dim light behind his frame as he shrugged, dismissively before they both took their drinks. Moira was a regular at Illusion's-- meaning to say that she went at least once a month, their themed bar dragging her in as a flame does to the moth. A curious look crossed his palette when Alex glanced at him while he spoke, however. What had he meant by that? If he had been the man, the mortal man, he had been thousands of years ago... he would have been bothered by such a quick look towards himself. He would have stood there, overthinking every twitch of the lip, the sound of the laugh, the way the light touched the others eyes. But... he was not that man. And all that he returned such a laugh with was a curious glance towards Alex. If he was going to say something, then he should just say it. At least, that's what Omen did, anyway. Life is too short was the saying. He lowered his eyes to his drink and reluctantly, hesitantly almost, lifted it to touch his lips to the ambrosia within. She had been right. Despite the fact that it was out-dated, such a drink.... it was most definitely to his liking. His gaze glanced towards Moira, who smiled knowingly back at him. "See? Told you." Lowering the glass, he swallowed and tilted his head. "You knew that this theme would appeal to me. Thanks." She giggled and then quieted when the man across from him spoke once more, inquiring about his shop. Quickly, her attention turned back to Omen and he blinked. No one-- no one, ever cared to ask about an antiquities shop that doubled as a book store. He was... surprised. And it showed for a heartbeat. At the mention of leaving Moira behind, he smirked, shifting his weight yet again. "I'm afraid the bookstore speaks for itself." Pausing, he thought how best to describe his collection. "Not many customers

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care much for the other items, and I've grown quite fond of them-- I suppose it's becoming more and more difficult to part with them." His eyes wandered briefly, then he spoke again. "I buy and re-sell....collectibles.... Particularly Phoenician antiquities. If that means anything to you, if not-- think the civilization of sea traders who lived near the Mediterranean from around 1000 BC to 900 BC." Moira tilted her head slightly, as if to urge him on, and he sighed. He was going to regret speaking so much tonight. Ah--well...he'd started down the rabbit hole. Might as well enjoy the fall into Underland. "Embroidered pieces, glassware, metal bowls...ornaments and plaques carved from ivory..." "Visiting Omen's shop is like going to a private Louvre!" Moira chimed in. Omen blushed and took another drink from his glass. @raptor

Alexander only smiled at the curious look Omen gave him, and it was hard to tell what exactly the smile was saying. He knew Omen would be interesting and lovely, because everything Moira had ever brought to him had been interesting and lovely; he was positive this would be no exception. He cocked his head to the side, the small hoops in his ears brushing his neck when he did. He saw that look of surprise cross Omen’s features. He had spent centuries observing humans and deities; of course he had to be able to catch every furrow of a brow and parting of lips when he was making people fall in love all day. “Please, please,” Alexander urged, holding his hand out to Omen for him to speak, a gesture to show he had seen the surprise, however brief. “I would love to hear about it.” He sipped at his drink as he listened, nodding his head. He gave a small laugh, and said, “It seems like we all collect things, here.” Phoenician. He would have to remember that, and ask one of his Cupids to research more about it. It was difficult to remember what exactly humans called each of their time periods, and the numbers meant little to nothing to him, besides that it was a very long time ago for the mortal. “Oh, wow. If that is the case, do I have to buy tickets if I’d like to visit?” Alexander asked. His voice was teasing, and he smiled. “I do hope you wouldn’t mind, at least, if I did. I would love to see what you collect. Perhaps Moira could show me sometime,” he offered. Omen seemed comfortable with her, and Alexander did not want Omen to feel awkward without her presence if it was needed. He liked Moira, and would not mind her company at all. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Perhaps it had been more than a few centuries, the coal black haired man thought, sipping that drink that had begun to descend into the ice. His heart stung at the memory when he was reminded as to why he even collected such things. To remind himself that time stopped for no one. Even if the world were to end in fire, or be covered with the rising oceans… he would remain. To his left, a woman laughed and his gaze slipped to her, having been startled out of his daydreaming abruptly. Alex spoke then, alluding to his curiosity. Alexander smiled and chucked out a question that Omen could only sigh at, following it up with a gesture that he… he didn't know this time if it were sincere or not. It was a nice thought though, he mused, for another to pretend to be interested in the things that Omen presented to a conversation. Lowering his glass once more, Omen swallowed, taking a moment before he spoke. He had not missed the teasing tone that Alex had played upon his lips. A glance at the other, much shorter, man had Omen wondering if he meant it when he said that he would love to see his collection, inviting Moira as well. "Ooooh, I'd love to go, if it'll mean Omen opens his doors for someone other than a customer!" Expectantly, the woman glanced over at him and tilted her head as if to say, 'You better say yes, asshat.' The reaper stiffened suddenly and turned his gaze to a man close to the bar. He stunk. Reeked. Of… death. "Uh-- yeah. Sure.." Absentmindedly replying to them, hearing Moira squeal with delight, he watched as that lanky male near the same man that his friend had been near earlier before retrieving his and Alex's drinks. Quickly, his gaze raked over his silhouette, watching as his fingers twitched on the glass he was holding. His movements…they were… irregular and… inhuman. The man at the bar who had bought Moira her drink, seemed not to pay him any heed. But that thin man… he turned his head and looked Omen straight in the eyes,

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as if he had felt his gaze on him, and the reaper felt his skin crawl with anticipation as he looked through him to the wall, as if he had been examining something there. But it wasn't right. The way he moved, the way he… smiled with pointed canines, glinting eerily bright despite the atmosphere, at Omen. It was a soul. Souls were like specters, but with a purpose that far exceeded a text-book haunting. He didn't know why he hadn't expected to see one here. "I mean, you really should come, Alex, it's quite…quaint in a charming way. Omen knows how to decorate so--" she paused, seeing Omen's stance change. He had moved to put equal weight on both feet, instead of how he had been passing the weight, shifting it from leg to leg before. But she continued, albeit a bit hesitantly. "His shop is beautiful…" Omen downed the last of his drink as that figure slid behind the bar and reached up, eyes trained on Omen's, tapped a glass of alcohol, tipping it so that it fell and shattered on the floor. The bartender looked behind them, shocked at the sudden drop of an expensive bottle of liquor. He apologized to his customer before he moved to clean it up.

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Omen's eyes narrowed immediately, jaw tensing. "Can I take your drink, Moira?" Turning back to the woman, who had just finished her glass, he offered his empty hand to slide around the neck of the flute she offered him after nodding. Then, he slid past Alex, eyes trained on that soul, which had an unnerving cheshire grin on its face as Omen closed the distance between himself and the bartender. He didn't so much as glance over his shoulder, but he stared into what mortals would refer to as 'empty space.' Filling it, the corrupted soul stared back. What should he do? Nothing. He should, and could, do nothing. And so, eyes finally leaving the soul, he turned back to the duet. When he approached again, he looked immediately to Moira. He had to get her out of here before more than just a bottle of rum was broken. "Moira, I forgot, I've left the door to the shop unlocked." Their code to only be used when Omen wished to leave came naturally and she swiftly turned to him, concern in her eyes. "Oh…um.." The darling sweet woman looked back to Alex and smiled apologetically. "Omen is my ride, we should probably go. It was lovely seeing you, Alex, I look forward to our next meeting!" She offered him another hug, with Omen stiffly standing so that he shielded her from the gaze of that soul, still lingering about the bar, though it had begun to get closer. Putting a hand to her spine to gently guide her, Omen forgot all formalities and glanced over at Alex before he guided the woman out. "Omen, that was rude!" "Can't help it, Mo." His words flew to the air, "You know I don't like crowded spaces." @raptor

“Yes! I would love to go. We will have to figure out a day, then. You are welcome to call me anytime, Moira.” It was not like he had much to do in the human world, anyway. Alexander usually went where he pleased and spent his days doing things he enjoyed. It would not be difficult to leave a Cupid in charge while he explored for a day. At the same time that Omen realized, Alexander smelled it as well. He lifted his head just slightly, though that was it, sipping at his drink. His Cupids had seen, already, from each corner of the bar that they were stationed in, though they would not act on it without Alexander’s go ahead. Alexander hummed, taking a sip of his drink. There was no reason to do anything, after all; it was not his place to meddle, unless the spirit put its attention to him. Alexander glanced over his shoulder at the bar when the liquor was knocked over, though only because the presence was a nuisance, nothing more. He was going to turn back when Omen walked past him, and he paused. Could Omen see it? He looked up to Omen when he returned, his eyes bright in the dim light. He smiled to him, and shook his head, waving that off. “No, no, don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon. Call me whenever you’d like to set up a date to see Omen’s shop,” he told Moira, hugging her back. “Have a good night, Omen. It was nice meeting you,” he said. He would leave a Cupid to ensure the spirit would not cause genuine harm. Knocked off booze would be fine, and no need for his intervention. He watched Omen and Moira leave, waving, and Nyx appeared at his side when the door closed.

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Nyx was made the most in Alexander’s image. He had black hair, currently held back by a claw clip, and deep blue eyes, the color of a beetle’s shell. “Follow them, please, and make sure they get home safely. Do your best to not let that man see you,” Alexander told him, and Nyx eagerly nodded his head. “I will meet you at home. Can we order pizza tonight? Kore’s cooking is so bland,” he whined, and Alexander waved a hand with a laugh, telling him they could decide that later. Nyx left the club, and when the door closed behind him he had shifted into a sleek black cat to tail them in the alleyways. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

With the niceties exchanged, Omen offered his arm yet again and Moira took it, as if it had always been a gesture between the two-- the reaper guiding a mere mortal by her hand on his bicep. Moira was the one who broke the stagnant silence that had fallen as they finally broke the cover of the alley that Illusions was curiously placed in. The hair on the back of Omen's neck was still raised, and his grip reflected his discomfort, which was what the woman made a comment on. "You're all tense and it's ruining my night, O." He forced himself to relax, a sigh escaping his lips. "What made you want to leave?" The curly haired woman turned her face to the creature of death, concern filling her eyes. A Moira was the first human in centuries to try to begin to understand her counterpart. She knew Omen was a superstitious bastard, but didn't necessarily know that he wasn't…human. Just an oddball, someone who didn't fit into the fast moving lane that she herself was so used to cruising through life in. With her on his arm, he didn't notice when the stray cat ducked from the shadows into the street where they were moving to traverse a couple of blocks back to the location where they had met. He shrugged, finally aiming to respond to her inquiry. "Did you… see something?" His gaze immediately dipped to her own, and she frowned, a serious look on her face. "I… I thought you said you'd gotten that taken care of." It wasn't like he had told Moira what he was. Instead, when she noticed he had been acting weird at work a couple of times and had approached him about it, he had told her (unashamed) that he was off his medication for a diagnosis that didn't exist in his record. Schitzophrenia. That he saw what he could only tell her were 'spirits.' People who didn't exist. Little did she know that it was as close to the truth as he could begin to reveal to her. "Yeah, well, it happens every so often." "What do they look like?" Curiosity killed the c

3:28 PM

at, so the saying went. And Moira was one daring little feline. He took a shuddering breath in response and smiled down at her. "Scary." Her eyes widened. Such a word coming from Omen, who was unafraid of even their most tumultuous clients… he could see her brain begin to crank it's gears as she twisted and turned the idea of what 'scary' meant to Omen. He highly doubted she could fathom the depths of darkness that those souls actually danced within. Their dangerous nature. They kept walking, without saying another word to each other until they were on the edge of the street next to a taxi that had stopped when Omen held out a hand to flag the nearest empty one down. She kissed his cheek as he opened the door for her, and he smiled, gently. "Omen.." she began, a cautious tone taking over her words, "you need to get back on those medications. They're keeping you from--" "From living my 'best life,' I know." What a funny thing for her to say over and over again. His best life had passed many many eons ago.

3:29 PM

When he was sure Moira was safe in her cabby, and the fare had been paid from his old black leather wallet, Omen stepped back onto the sidewalk. He turned his head to watch as the car sped away, hurtling down the streets with that beautiful woman in its belly. She waved at him from the window in the back, but he did not return the gesture, choosing instead to put his hand back in his pocket to retrieve a cigarette and his lighter. Once he had gone about lighting it, his entire demeaner changed at once. From relaxed and bored, to a violent delight, his aura shifting. He pulled the smoke from his lips after inhaling deep, his shoulders relaxing, and exhaled. Then, he turned on his heel and put his case back in his burnt umber pants pocket, and retrieved a curious item instead. A fountain pen. Steering himself into an apartment building complex, he escaped the bustle of the city, but more importantly, the prying eyes of man. When he was sure no one was around, he pressed the button on the pen and it clicked and clattered as it extended, broke in half and sprouted two blades that curved and glinted in the moonlight. His eyes lit with a glow of their own for a brief moment, and he passed one of the scythes to his free hand, before lowering the blades to the ground. Gods, he was so tired… he didn't want to go and retrieve that particular soul… it seemed like it would be such a pain in the ass. Lucky for him, he didn't have to trace back through alleyways for long, ducking between shadows. The thing had slipped out of Illusions mere minutes afterwards, having smelled the scent of recognition on Omen's skin. It was the knowing that he could see them that often led to their capture. Their intrigue and desire to be acknowledged again as they had once been in life… Omen stopped and turned slowly to his left, raising a single scythe to rest on his shoulder. "You're one ugly son of a bitch." His tone was bored as he cocked his head and smiled lazi

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ly. The first sign that this man… was anything but. It was simple enough. The soul screamed silently as it launched towards him, morphing into something less than anthropomorphic. He stepped back, gaining his balance before swinging that single scythe into the awaiting creature's belly. It dissolved instantaneously and he watched as the black smoke from it's demise lifted into the moonlight. Sighing, he lowered his weapon, moved it to the hand with the other clasped within it, and waited while they combined, then morphed back into a pen, which he promptly deposited in his pocket once more. He drew out his cigarette case for the third time that night, idly picking a single one up and placing it in his mouth before snapping his lighter open. The flame rose to life, but he froze, turning his head slowly. He should have noticed, he realized. That the cat in the shadow of the garbage cans… was more than a little feral kitty. The way it's blue eyes shone against its black fur. He glanced down at it, raising a brow with… mild intrigue. Very mild, to be honest. Whatever that creature was… why a cat, of all things. "Enjoying the show, kitty kitty?"

3:29 PM

@raptor

Nyx followed easily and eagerly; the bar was, unfortunately, boring for him. He wanted to like it, really, he just did not really get the same satisfaction from watching humans that Alexander did. They were kind of lame, in his opinion. They did not live very long, and they couldn’t do anything interesting like turn into cute cats. Humans hit on him at the bar, and that was the littlest about of fun, but not really when he thought about how they’d probably die long before he did. Eris liked sleeping with him, and could do so without getting dragged down with thoughts of their mortality. Nyx liked their food, at least. He liked having so many options, without even having to get up from the couch. That was nice. He followed after Omen and Moira easily, watching her get into the cab. He knew Alexander did genuinely enjoy Moira’s company, so he would be glad to hear that. He did not know how far Alexander wanted him to follow the man, though; did he want to know where he lived? Nyx could do that. He slipped into the apartment complex before the door could close behind Omen. Is there where he lived? Nyx was almost content to return to Alexander with this news when Omen pressed the button of the pen, and he paused, tail straight in the air. He smelled the spirit then. He was hiding behind the garbages while he watched, his ears low. Alexander would be so interested in this news. He could not wait to return back to tell him and the other Cupids. He was about to dart out when Omen looked to him. His ears twitched briefly, before he sat down and licked there at his paws. What would a cat do? He went to Omen with a meow, brushing against his legs. Would it be wrong to beg for food? He didn’t care, he had done so many times before. He slid against Omen’s ankles, flopping over to reveal his stomach with another meow. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

The creature, whatever it was, dressed in jet black fur stepped from it's place among the rubbish bins and Omen watched, drawing a long breath of nicotine in as the little thing stepped towards him on four tiny paws. Murder mittens he corrected himself, having heard the term in his shop while a woman was speaking to him about his interest in getting a shop cat. What a strange thing to call a cat's paws, prickling with claws. The being let out a soft mewl and Omen's bright flaxen eyes followed it's movements as it closed the distance between himself and it. Then, without so much as a breath of hesitation, the feline brushed against his legs, looking up at him expectantly. "Ah… why is it that I tend to be followed by such things as yourself?" Omen placed the lighter back in his heavy pocket and knelt down, sighing as the petite figure promptly plopped on its side, rolling to its spine in a way of begging for a rub on its bared tummy. What a strange thing to do. Exposing it's belly, the softest portion of its body, to him. Pausing, he exhaled smoke before a slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth, his eyes going soft, their glow fading to a faint gold in comparison. "You know-- you'll get gutted doing that someday." But, contrary to his words, his voice was quiet, and he reached forward a skeletal hand, scars flashing as his sleeve slid up. Extending his fingers to tentatively touch the cat's stomach, he knelt there, in silence, petting the damned thing. "You're not exactly fit for this form, I'm afraid. Though you play the part well." His free hand took his cigarette from between his lips, and he exhaled again, eyes never leaving the creature. Omen seemed to think for a long time, stroking that midnight fur before he came to a conclusion, and stood up, exhaling audibly. He scratched the back of his neck and spoke again, for the final time. "I am not particularly… fond… of the idea that you're something other than a cat, but if you've

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followed for a while and are still not deterred by me, then you must be some kind of imbecile. Or just stupid brave. I think the two are often synonymous." Taking another draw of the cig, he began walking away, putting his hands in his pocket before he got to the edge of the apartment complex. He turned his head slightly. "Windows open on the second floor. Come in sometime, when you like," he breathed the words out, "or don't. I'm sure a pretty kitty like you has all sorts of mischief to get yourself tied up in." Shrugging, he reached for the railing, then began to ascend. "But still, the offer stands." And then, he disappeared. ------------------------ It was Moira who called him, yet again. The only time his cell ever rang was when she was the one behind the other side of the screen. Omen looked over from where he had been moving to place books on a shelf, staring at the vibrating thing on the wooden table before he resolved to go and pick it up on the last ring. "FINALLY!" She screamed into the phone, the sound of honking cars trailing around as background noise in the speaker. Wincing, Omen held the device away from his face and then slowly, drew it back in. "I gave Alex the address, I'm on my way right now! Be there in five!" Click. Omen stood there like a fool, frozen. Then he sighed and went to the door, unlocking it moments before Moira burst through like a tornado after knocking on the glass. When she did enter, she wrapped her dark arms around him and squeezed him tightly in an embrace that he would have been rather.. not fond of.. if it had not been Moira as the one who had forced it upon him. She pulled back, then put her slim phone to her ear once again and spoke excitedly into it. “Where are you, Alex? You’re coming for sure, right?” Omen ignored her, moving to the small room behind his counter that had coffee going in a pot that was probably as old as himself… figuratively. Returning a few minutes later,

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He held out a cup to her, which she took gratefully, the aroma wafting into the space that some would consider ‘cluttered.’

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@raptor

Nyx looked up to Omen and blinked his big, round eyes. If he was gutted, it didn’t matter; Alexander would bring him back. He liked him too much not to. He would prefer not to get gutted, sure—it sounded like it hurt a lot. He meowed and wiggled around on the ground then when Omen said he did not play the part well. He thought he did! Back in the day, Nyx had been Alexander’s messenger to the other gods. Now, it was not really needed, when Alexander was in the human world and had a phone—not that all of the gods agreed with that. Nyx apparently played this so well that Omen told him where he lived and invited him there. So he did, to go through his cupboards and see what was kept there. Kore tracked him down after a day, and people saw a tall, broad shouldered blonde man bickering with a cat on the sidewalk that day. Nyx would return eventually. He said he was just getting info! They should be glad. He had seen Omen fight a spirit, after all, and it seemed like Omen knew that Nyx was not exactly a normal feline. Nyx did not know exactly what was up with Omen, either, and would return when he had a concise answer. Nyx had gone to work with Omen that day. He was rolling around on the floor, batting at Omen’s feet while he was putting books away, and when Moira came in he stepped up to go to the door to greet her, winding in between her legs as she went over to hug Omen. His ears twitched when he heard the voice on the other side of Moira’s phone. “Yes! Of course. I’ll be there in just a few moments, don’t worry,” Alexander assured, and Nyx meowed happily. He knew Alexander would be here soon to see him and figure out more about Omen. Alexander arrived in a few moments, glancing briefly at Nyx on the floor before he went to hug Moira. “Omen, you did not mention the cat here,” he said with a smile. Nyx hopped up on a bookshelf then to look out the window, sticking his tongue out to the large rosette cat that sat on a fence outside. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Moira’s beautiful mouth curved upwards in a satisfied smile when she heard Alexander’s response. “Good. Omen is soooo excited to show you his museum!” She giggled, having been met with a look from the dark haired man who’s shop she was currently standing in like she herself owned it. Compared to the drab aesthetic of his ‘museum,’ Moira was… stunning. She hung up then, placing her phone in her purse again after a moment of making sure that it was on vibrate. Ever the thoughtful one, the woman often made an effort to not be bothered when she was with her friends. If that’s what Omen could even be classified as. Though he supposed he really was one, considering that she was the first and only human he had interacted with in centuries on such a regular basis. Alexander was about to be the second one. Though he highly doubted that he would be as forceful as the female was. The bells above the door chimed as it swung open, pulling back to reveal the rather short brunette individual who had just been on the phone with the woman who now stood, sipping at the piping hot cup of coffee that had been presented to her by Omen, who now stood, completely ignoring the stray he had reluctantly taken in. Though, much to Moira’s amusement, he did not seem to mind the critter winding in and out of his legs. The reaper looked up to cast desert sun eyes on the man. Moira squealed with unbound delight and embraced the other briefly, making sure to not spill her coffee, let alone have it anywhere near the other, while she did so. In his comfort zone, Omen seemed more at ease than he had in the bar the other night. With a quick look to the cat, which he refused to name as naming a thing often marked it as your own—and he highly doubted that, whatever the cat actually was, would enjoy being called something other than what it had been dubbed as in another life. “He’s not mine,” he said quietly, looking back at the feline. Moira chuckled. “Though he’s welcome to stay

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, so long as he doesn’t pee on my books.” “Even if he did, you’d still feed him.” Omen shot a glance to her, and she shrugged. Facts were facts. “Omen,” she chimed in again, “has an affinity for the lost things of the world.” She gestured towards the books lining the walls, pressed against even the ceiling on shelves that were well kept. The cursed individual crossed towards the very animal they were talking about, looking in the direction of where he was staring and then smiled briefly down at the cat. “I don’t think ‘strays’ are ever ‘lost..’ They know exactly what they’re doing and where they’re headed next.” He reached a hand out to brush up against the cat’s skull. “Admit it, you love the thing.” His hand faltered in its strokes before continuing. “Love is a very strong word, Moira. Be careful how you use it.” She rolled her eyes, but this seemed to have made the hair on the back of Omen’s neck stand up. @raptor

Alexander smiled as he looked around the room, before back to the cat. “That is a nice quality, I believe. Especially considering he is so very cute,” Alexander told him. Nyx turned and pressed his nose there against Omen’s palm when he pet him. His ears twitched at the word love, though he did not notice the small falterings in Omen’s behavior; Alexander, however, did. “If you are not careful, you will end up running a rescue,” Alexander said, his voice teasing. He knelt, holding his hand out to Nyx, who eagerly went to him. “It’s a strong word, but that’s okay. He looks very sweet,” Alexander said, picking the cat up, scooping Nyx into his arms and standing up with him against his chest. “Tell me what your favorite item is here, Omen.” @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Omen quite enjoyed the way the feline shaped creature pressed his face into his awaiting pale hand. He scratched under the things chin, leaning in slightly as if to urge the cat to tilt its whiskers in ecstasy. In the movement, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he pressed a thumb to the space between the animals closed eyes, rubbing ever so gently. In the back room, next to the coffee pot, was a small dish that he'd brought from his apartment. It currently lay empty and devoid of any material, but he made a mental note to place it next to the window and fill it with a bit of food later. He was brought back from his thoughts when the feminine man behind him spoke, breaking the rather domestic moment. The cat jumped from the sill and padded over towards the man and Omen followed the movement with his gold flecked gaze. He hated to admit it, but Alexander was right. "Omen, I didn't know you liked kitties..." Moira mused, then giggled before setting down her finally empty coffee cup on the counter that separated the store from the back room aforementioned. But O didn't respond to this, choosing instead to sweep his gaze across the man's silhouette as he gracefully lowered himself to pick up the stray. "Words have power," he quietly responded, knowing that if he raised his voice, his temper would show. And he didn't want to ruin the day. "It is unwise for anyone to believe otherwise." As the man raised himself, Omen accidentally found himself admiring the curve of his mouth, the way the rings on his fingers caught the warm rays of sunlight and reflected them amongst his books. When prompted with what his favorite item was, Moira snapped her head around, curiosity filling her features unashamedly. "Oooh, yes, please!! I bet it's something worth a lot!" Omen stayed silent, knowing that the answer was actually the exact opposite. It did not take him more than half a moments hesitation to know what it was. So, putting one hand in

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his pocket, the cursed man rubbed the back of his neck and looked the male up and down, as if asking if he were indeed, serious. "I'm afraid it's not worth much, Mo." Faltering as he was caught looking at Alex, he quickly averted his gaze, eyes framed by dark lashes looking towards where the room disappeared into shelves and cases filled to the brim with books. He'd been in the process of taking inventory and restocking when the two had interrupted him. So, many discarded pieces of literature lay abandoned on the hardwood floor. He sighed, then strode past Alexander without glancing at him again. Perhaps too obvious of a gesture to some. Why would the individual be interested enough to ask such a thing? As he passed by him, he cast a swift glance at the 'cat' and then moved on. Moira watched with wide eyes before she took off after him, her stiletto's clicking against the wood. "I bet it's a book." "You would be wrong," his voice called out. Having no intention of returning with the thing in his hand, he led Moira (and Alexander, should he choose to follow), through lines of shelves. Not a speck of dust coated them, and yet... the aesthetic seemed old and classic. Moira clucked her tongue. "What is it?" "The rose-fingered goddess of the dawn," was the only response she got and he stopped before a cabinet, lined with curiosities, artifacts and knick-knacks. Things he'd collected over the centuries of his time on the planet. All pertaining to the same thing. In the center, at the heart of the cabinet, was the figure of a goddess. Though the years had not been kind to her, she was still in excellent condition despite the fact that it was just a bust. His eyes lingered on her weathered features before he tore his gaze away. "Some call her Eos, though she was around long before the Greeks." @raptor

Alexander was interested to know more about Omen, especially after hearing from Kore that Nyx had seen him fight and get rid of a spirit. He wondered what exactly he was. He had heard that some humans could see spirits, but fight them? He looked up to Omen, his head cocked to the side, watching him as he looked away. “There are so many lovely things here. I am very excited to see what you’ve chose to be your favorite,” Alexander hummed out. He followed behind Moira and Omen, still carrying Nyx, considering he knew that the Cupid would be interested and would follow to see anyway. “It is so nice here, Omen,” he commented. He paused just briefly when he saw the bust of the goddess, blinking his round eyes at it. He had heard of the goddess, though he had came into existence after her. He had never met her. “It is beautiful,” Alexander said, giving a small smile. Nyx cocked his head at it. “Why is this your favorite, amongst everything you’ve collected? Not that I do not see the appeal, of course, I am just curious of the reason.” @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Omen did not hear the compliments as sincere-- though the sound of the voice that produced them might appear as such to his counterpart, Moira, who stood beside him. Currently, she was casually examining the rest of the cabinet, her eyes catching on another woman shaped figure, though much older. He tilted his eyes down to follow her gaze and stiffened slightly. That was before Alex spoke, and Omen's attention immediately turned to him. He exhaled, then, as a question was raised and turned his head back to the goddess. "I do not particularly favor any piece in my collection," he began, feeling the weight in his pocket in the shape of his pen. That item, his scythes, were actually his most priceless possession. "But such features are most like her." He paused, exhaling. "Or at least, how I would imagine her to be. Eos was the goddess of the dawn, and heavily associated with Aphrodite. Some texts liken the latter to Astarte, another goddess, but, in my opinion, they are all one and the same." He looked back then to the man and stared, tilting his head. He'd caught himself, but the man before him... he inhaled deep. He had not noticed it before while it had been muted by the sweat and tinge of alcohol, but now that he was standing right in front of him, he could--- it was the scent of...power. His gold eyes flashed with a light of their own and he narrowed them slowly. As if judging... trying to... his perfect movements, the unnatural beauty for such a mortal man. Shrugging it off, for now, Omen breathed a sigh as he reached forward towards the male. His fingers found black fur and he thumbed the creatures head in Alex's arms before retracting his hand. Having been close enough, he had extended his own senses from his fingertips-- and they had met a wall. Not anything like a man's at all. How had he not experienced it when they had shaken hands at the speakeasy? "Moira... there is a can of food on the counter in the back and a dish. Would you m

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ind grabbing it for the cat?" Quizzically, Moira glanced up from where she had been admiring a signet ring encrusted with precious gems. She blinked a couple times, then smiled wide. As if she knew that Omen would like to be alone with their mutual. She nodded and swung her hips as she retreated back through the lines of shelves. When she was gone, and out of earshot, Omen turned his attention back to Alexander, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, taking on a bored, albeit the curiosity in his eyes, pose. "I don't suppose... you'd be the owner of such a creature as the one in your arms." It was a loaded question. Alexander could respond with the fact of whether or not he did own a cat. But if he... Omen's jaw tensed. If he was something other than what he appeared to be, then he would answer differently. @raptor

Alexander’s lips pursed just slightly, for only a second, when he heard Omen. He looked down to Nyx, who meowed up to him, and he reached to brush his hands along his ears in response. He had once been a Cupid under the previous goddess of love, though he did not remember much of that, due to time and people taking that from him. After her dissolving, Alexander took over. He was still quite some centuries old, though he had never been around with Eos or Astarte. He did not even truly remember if he had been around for Aphrodite. It had been something decided to not continue infighting, and also as a punishment sleeping with another God as a Cupid. He could not even really remember who—his time as a Cupid was fuzzy, and he had difficulties discerning what was dream and reality. In current days, his terror of forgetting made him keep journals, so he could tell what was reality and what was not. He had not seen Omen’s hand reaching for the cat until he had touched Nyx. Alexander looked up, glancing over his shoulder when Moira went to go get the dish for the cat. “A creature such of this, do you mean a cat? Yes, I do have one,” Alexander said with a smile. He bent down, to let Nyx down then, before he turned to look at a cabinet there. The cat at his feet mimicked his movements, gazing up at the collection as well. “You look like you’d like to ask me something,” he hummed out, folding his hands behind his back. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Alexander answered in the way a mortal would. But the wall had been apparent. Omen watched as the other male turned and inspected the cabinet idly. Was he...avoiding him? He didn't know. Suddenly on guard, he heard the man prompt him for a question, and he thought it through before answering. "Oftentimes," he mused, "What you are avoiding, comes running to meet you." His eyes traveled to the cabinet, lingering on the tablet carved with Astarte. He was going to ask him point blank, he decided. Not one much for anything other than straight answers, O was not necessarily one who often was too withdrawn to want to engage others in conversation. He almost made it to question the individual, to ask him what he was, and what in the gods' name he was doing here, looking at an antiquities collection that belonged to a keeper of souls. But, Moira came trotting back, the can in one hand, and the dish in the other. "Sorry, couldn't find the can. Omen, it was in the mini fridge, not on the counter." She huffed and handed the pale man that which he had asked for. But his eyes were trained on Alexander until the items were shoved into his wrist and he had to jerk in order to not drop them as she let go. Glancing down at the feline shaped figure, he stared hard, then sighed and dropped to a knee. Tapping on the can to get the thing's attention, he pried open the tab and deposited the food onto the dish. It was, afterall, a cat. But he'd doubted that it wanted anything to do with kibble or fancy feast. So the white fin tuna was what he had brought from his pantry. "I meant to ask if you saw anything you liked-- that was all." His dark lashes fluttered over amber eyes, shielding them as he tipped the can over onto the dish and forked out the remnants behind with the can's lid. @raptor

“Whatever gave you the idea that I was avoiding something?” Alexander asked, turning his smile back to Omen. “Are you sure you are not the one avoiding something?” Alexander was not suspicious by nature, though the mentions of all these goddesses made him wonder if Omen was onto something. He did not have any idea how he could be, however, so for the time being he would leave Nyx here to keep an eye on him. He had fought a spirit—what did that make him? Some humans could see them, but fighting one, sending it away? He had never heard of that. Nyx meowed loudly when Omen went to a knee and called the can. He eagerly trotted over to him, reaching up to place his two front paws on Omen’s leg while he opened up the can of tuna. Alexander gave a small laugh when he heard Omen, nodding his head, while Nyx began eating the tuna in the dish before Omen had finished dumping it out. “Of course,” he said, and turned back to the cabinet. “It is all beautiful. I think I would have to spend several days in here to actually decide on a favorite. I like these glasses, here,” he offered, pointing to the cabinet, where ivory goblets were painted with an array of seashells and pearls. “Moira, what about you?” he asked her. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

At the words that had presented him with a question, Omen had narrowed his eyes even further, having observed the man with a slow glance from his brunette hair down to his clothes and shoes before traveling back up. To be honest, he hadn’t a single clue about who this man was, but he didn’t particularly like the fact that not one, but two, creatures that were not who they appeared to be had walked into his life in the time span of a single night. He preferred to have spirits tail him or at least pass him on the street. He, at least, knew those ones. Distracted by the way that same cat he had just thought about as it placed it’s murder mittens on his leg, a loud mewl escaping it’s throat, Omen ignored the question entirely. Moira seemed to sense the tension in his shoulders, and she stayed uncharacteristically quiet as he finished scooping the insides of the can out onto the dish. Then, he tapped the animal’s nose before he stood back up, shifting the can to his other hand. Alexander had turned back to the cabinet of curiosities in front of him, having laughed at the feline when he began to gobble down the food offered to him. Moira and Omen shared a glance before he sighed, listening to Alex’s claim that he could not simply pick a favorite within just a few minutes within the shop. And Omen wasn’t about to offer the same extension of welcome that he’d thrown the cat who had weaved towards him from out of an alleyway. But, Alexander had a good eye. The most expensive items in that cabinet were indeed those goblets. An interesting pick. When he prompted Moira for her own favorite, a smile touched her lips and she grabbed Alex’s hand, tugging a little. “My favorite isn’t over here, but I can show it to you!” Omen’s eyes followed her hand touching Alex’s before the woman steered him further in and up a small staircase to the second floor, ignoring all the books as she passed by. Her hand let go of Alex’s as soon as she knew he was following, and sh

9:12 PM

e led them to a piece of jewelry on a headless display bust. “This one, this one!” It was a necklace, a rather delicate one with four strands of minute gold beads and tiny white and opaque beads that were held together by statement pieces in lines every four inches. “Omen says that he picked this up years ago when he was traveling in Egypt.” She swooned over the thing, leaning down to inspect it respectfully. “It’s by far my favorite, it looks like it should belong in a real museum… how much is it worth again, O?” Omen had followed behind, knowing exactly where the woman was heading and he was in no rush to get there. “I’m sure it’s not worth as much as one of your cars,” he spoke, not entirely knowing it’s value. Here, it might just be a pretty piece, but it truly did belong in a museum. “It’s from the 7th century B.C.E. and is Phoenician made. However it’s Egyptian inspired—” he pointed towards the bird’s head clasps on either side. He pulled back slightly, then glanced at Alexander with curiosity yet again. If the man were to glance over, he wouldn’t avert his gaze. @raptor

Alexander was not going to ask anything when Moira was here. Depending on what all Nyx reported back, he planned on coming here one day alone to talk to Omen and figure out more about him. He did not think Omen had bad intentions, but it was always better to try to be ahead of them. “I am excited to see what your favorite is,” Alexander said, smiling as Moira tugged on her hand. He followed her up the staircase, looking around at everything as he passed. He had never felt anything from Moira, and as such was almost positive she was human. How ironic it was, then, that she had brought these two together? “I knew you would pick something beautiful,” Alexander hummed out, looking over the necklace that they stopped in front of. “It is very pretty. You really do have an eye for these kinds of things, Omen.” Alexander glanced back at him, meeting his eyes. He only smiled to him, and when he turned back away it did not seem like he was uncomfortable, only that he was looking at the necklace again. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Moira was more than just a little excited when she presented the necklace, pointing out her favorite thing about it—the gold embellishments. When Alexander commented that he had known that her pick would be a unique one, she turned her beautiful dark gaze upon her friend and tilted her head, smiling. “It’s just something I could see myself wearing. I can’t imagine how much it must be worth, though.” Omen didn’t comment on this, even when the woman looked at him curiously. He merely stuck his hands in his pockets and looked back at the display case when Alex then stated that he had an eye for such things as this. “I collect what catches my eye.” Was all he said in response. When the man glanced over at him, he returned the look, and then, shifting from one leg to the other, he excused himself so that he could go and smoke for a second before any customers began walking into the shop. “Please feel free to look around,” he stated, then took out his cigarette case and began descending the stairs once again. He passed by the stray cat, who was just now finishing up the can of tuna that he had placed out for him. When he did, his gold eyes flashed over to him, and he sighed. “I don’t suppose you two are acquainted?” Knowing he was likely to not get an answer out of the feline-shaped creature, he shrugged and opened the front door, placing a smoke in between his lips before he lit it and leaned against the railing leading up to his store. Inside, Moira was chattering to Alex about the items that she found to be the most beautiful, tugging on his ringed hands to lead him around the shop, pointing out a few curious items. Then, she paused when she got to a tapestry near the back of the second floor. She let out a small exhale, looking to Alexander with what might be relief. “Omen,” she began, “is not someone who allows others to come so close to him—emotionally or physically. I think he lets me annoy him just for the company every so often.” Her eyes t

10:08 AM

urned to the tapestry, and she placed her hands behind her back, her bangles clinking together. “Thanks for coming, Alex. I’m glad he’s actually talking to you. It took me an entire year of pestering him before he would go places with me.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind an ear, then turned to look down the row of shelves which led to the staircase. Then, with a shrug, she quickly mentioned she needed to use the bathroom, and bounded away, promising to return as soon as she was finished. @raptor

Alexander nodded his head when Omen excused himself, humming in thought. He wondered why these things caught Omen’s eye. Humans collected a lot of things, yes, but he hadn’t heard of them collecting things like this before. There were a lot of curiosities about Omen that Alexander would like to figure out. Alexander glanced over to Moira as she led him around the shop to look at different things in the shop, looking over the tapestry with her. He looked over to her when she began to talk, and smiled. “Of course. I am not sure how good of company I am to him,” he began, giving a small laugh, “But I am very glad I’ve been able to see this shop. He does seem to have a good heart.” Alexander believed that, at the moment. He had taken Nyx in even with some idea that he perhaps was not really a stray cat. “Thank you for introducing me to him, Moira. I’ll be looking around,” he told her. He went to look around at a few more of the items in the shop while he waited for Moira. Nyx meowed when he heard Omen, but that was the only response he gave. He finished up the can of tuna and then bounded up the stairs to join Alexander again. Outside, where Omen was smoking, a large, brown rosette cat hopped up into the railing to sit a few feet away from him. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Omen stood, unbothered by the fact that he was alone, and finished his cigarette without feeling need to rush to get back inside to Moira and Alexander. When he was about to pull out a second one, his eyes darted to the side, watching as yet another cat joined his company. Although it was perched a few feet away, Omen gave it a once over before he lit his second cigarette. A bad habit to have two in one go, sure, but it was soothing, in a way, for him. “I don’t suppose you’re also something you’re not…?” He inquired, as if the animal were going to speak back to him. Moira returned to the brunette man with her phone in her hand, checking the messages she had received while she had had it on silent. The woman looked up, spying her friend before she quickly put the device away into her purse and she rejoined him. “As for having a good heart—” she began, picking up on the conversation they had been having before she had escaped to the restroom, “I feel like Omen is constantly hiding something. Not that he’s suspicious, that’s not what I’m saying.” She smiled warmly at her counterpart. “It’s more like… maybe he, or someone close to him, got hurt a while ago, and he doesn’t want to risk getting close to another person again.” Tossing her hair with the back of her hand, she gloated a little. “Of course, that didn’t deter me! But… for other people… I don’t think he has many friends, if you get what I’m saying.” She turned and looked down the stairs, spying the subject of her speech through a small opening in the shelves. “What is with him and cats lately? He feeds strays, sure, but I’ve never known him in the past couple of years to take one in.” She turned and sighed, attention moving back to Alex. “Are you bored yet?” @raptor

The cat did not even meow to him, only lifted his paw and cleaned its face. This was Kore, and Eris was not too far away, either, stalking the streets. They did not tend to go too far away from their God—honestly, Nyx being here was further than they usually strayed. The cat’s tail tucked neatly around it, though that was all. Alexander hummed at what Moira said on her return. “It does seem that way,” he agreed. Omen seemed standoffish, and Alexander could most definitely see that being the case. He would have his Cupids go through records, to see if perhaps a past heartbreak had burned Omen. He had a feeling it would not be there, though. Alexander looked through the shelves with Moira, and smiled at the sight of Omen. “Don’t they say that animals are a good judge of character?” Alexander said, bending to pick up Nyx that was meowing at his feet. “Don’t worry, no, I’m not bored. The things here are interesting, not least of all the owner of them,” he said, giving a small laugh. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Having been ignored by the feline, Omen finished off his cigarette and put it out by simply grating the thing in an ash tray that he had previously left outside for his own personal use. Though, frankly, he had found that others-- strangers-- sometimes customers, used this ashtray. So he constantly cleaned it and emptied its contents in the trashcan inside. As of right now, it was full of butts. He made a face at it, then glanced back up at the cat, who was now grooming itself. Goosebumps trickled up his spine, raising the tiny hairs there on the back of his nape. He wasn't sure why.... but the presence of cats was starting to... make him uneasy. He frowned, then turned sharply, eyes glinting a bright amber gold as he surveyed the rest of the street. Something felt.... off. But what was it? The heavy weight of the pen in his pocket was suddenly like lead to him and he slipped a bare hand into his pants, touching the metal lightly. As if reacting to his touch, he could feel it's cold exterior thrum against the brief sweep of his fingertips. "Best not stay out too long, cat," he whispered. "Seems like there's a storm coming." Sure enough, overhead, clouds had begun to touch the edges of the clear sky. But the sun still shone as ardently as ever.... perhaps it was a false alarm? Nevertheless, he turned and opened the shop door, ducking back inside. Once there, he found his way back to Moira, who was engaging in conversation with the short statured man. Moira's voice bled through the shop as she answered something that Omen had not heard the previous response to. "--Is there something you would like to do tonight, Alex? Once Omen closes shop later today, I was planning on dragging him to come drinking with me again... but we should all get together and do something!!!" @raptor

Kore finished cleaning himself, and in response hissed at the ash tray and turned away to stalk back down the fence. He did not trust this man, though it mostly had to do with him being the most mature of the Cupids. He did not trust most of the humans, even if perhaps this man was not fully one. Alexander was smiling brightly when he heard Moira, eagerly nodding his head. “I would love that, if you wouldn’t mind me coming with you two to drink,” he said. He glanced back when he heard Omen returning, waving to him. “Would you like to do that? Perhaps we could all go get dinner together, too,” he hummed out. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

Omen looked up, then absentmindedly allowed his attention to slide to the clockface across the way. "Weekdays are slow to say the least... I can close up shop early-- if four sounds good." Why was he even agreeing to this? Moira could barely contain her squeal and she turned, launching herself at Omen, who instinctively caught her so that she wouldn't fall flat on her face. Wrapping her arms around him, she jumped up and down, her beautiful dark skin contrasted drastically against his scarred hands, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, yes, yessss! UGh, OMEN!" He caught a look from Alexander and quickly averted his gaze just as Moira pulled back and squished his face with her manicured hands. "Dinner too?!" She turned as if to get affirmation from the other male in the room before tapping her fingers against Omen's temple and then dropping them. Her perfume wafted into his body and he nodded slowly. To which she lit up like a flame. "What kind of food do you prefer, Alexander?" It was Omen who asked, surprisingly, his molten gaze still averted before he shyly glanced back over at the other, the inquiry hanging in the atmosphere. @raptor

Alexander smiled brightly when Omen agreed. “Oh, my, that sounds great. Four works perfectly,” he agreed. Meanwhile, Nyx came over and yowled—he wanted to be able to go to dinner and drink, too, but sadly he had to pretend to be a cat. Alexander smiled as he watched them, glancing up to Omen when he heard him. His hands folded politely in front of him, humming in thought. “Oh, I like pasta. Italian, things like that,” he offered. @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑

(( Hi there!

@raptor @𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖟𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖑 , We noticed this roleplay has been inactive for 90 days or more. Please reply to this message so I am pinged if you would like to keep this roleplay open. In addition, roleplay must begin within 7 days, otherwise this channel will be moved to our archives. All archived roleplays are eventually uploaded onto http://rphq.me/ and can be viewed there. If you wish to archive this roleplay yourself, you can request this with the /archiverequest command in #channel-request ))