Serene Sunset Tavern

Merry chatter and rumormongering built an aura of coziness within the Serene Sunset Tavern, his haven for quite some time. Pushing the door, he took almost silent steps to reach the bar counter. 'Is it just me or there is something going on here; like some festival or party? Tch. I've never been in this tavern with an insane amount of people...'

Sakuraba made a mock salute with his right hand's index and middle fingers, a ghost of a grin stretching his lips. "Yo," he greeted the Nihonjin tender who had served him since his stay. The young male seemed to be expecting him. He raised an eyebrow in recognition and approached the crimson raven, leaning on the counter. "The usual."

"Tekka and unagi nigirizushi, kani salad, warm sake, and vanilla liqueur, as always." The tender fetched his apron from the nearby table and washed his hands in the sink. "Geez, you might die of malnutrition if I hadn't introduced the salad after your second week here."

"Hai. Don't remind me of that scene ever again, shrimp," Sakuraba scoffed, getting interested with the valve of a draft liquor tap just by his right. The noise does not appear to irritate him, which struck him weird. Oh. And include his rather liking of shiny things, say, that glittering tap lever. He might be borderline crazy.

A mock-hurt pout and a semi-caustic reply came flying. "Hey, I've got a name! It's Narumi Kazuma! And just because I'm younger than you means I'm scrawny," he exclaimed as he was preparing the raven's meal. Deft knife movements and intricate rice molding techniques marked this young man's expertise. He stopped for a while and flexed his biceps. "I'm more buff compared to you, Sakuraba-san, so stop whining."

"I'm not whining!" Sakuraba said in defiance, a little high-pitched to his liking.

Kazu chuckled, returning to his work. "You already are." The tuna and smoked eel rolls were done. Crabstick salad came next. "How's work? Got a mark?" the blue-haired sushi chef-in-training queried. Knowing it would take him a little more time to prepare for the other course, he served a glass of vanilla liqueur to the man.

"No. I haven't got one yet. Aside from the job given by Magistress Dominii-dono, I've got all the time in the world to wait for my Mark, Kazu-dono." Idle time increased his nicotine craving, making him fish his jacket pocket for a stick. As soon as he put it between his lips, Kazu immediately lit it and set an ashtray in front of him before returning to his dish.

A nod came as a reply and the next few minutes submerged in pleasant silence, vanilla wisps drifting around.

A few sips and drags later, Sakuraba let his half-finished stick on a tray's notch, noticing that the bluenette added his finishing touches to the salad.

"Yosh. Tuna and eel hand rolls, crabstick salad, warm sake and vanilla liqueur later after the meal," Kazu grinned as he served the raven's order. "Anything else? Maybe," he trailed off, leaning at the counter and stole the raven's cancer stick, taking a painstakingly slow drag and stared blankly at his customer, speaking in a suave manner, "...me?"

"...eh?" the cherry raven managed to blurt out with the tiniest bit of composure he held on to. 'Am I seeing things now? No. Kazu-dono did not just do that.' He paled and his face suddenly turned crimson, his hair its new rival.

"THAT'S PRICELESS!" Kazu exclaimed, chuckling while his free left hand covered his mouth. "I always thought that your twin was the only one who can squeeze that reaction out from you." Before the raven could retaliate, the tender went closer to the still dazed Sakuraba and stumped the cancer stick to its ash graveyard. "I was just messing around," he confirmed, eyes crinkling in delight. It did not last long though. He became a little serious, a little concerned. "Joking aside, smoking is bad for you. Try to cut, ne, Saku-chan? Oh. Got to get back to work." With the same mock salute, Kazu left with a clipped "Later." while licking his lips and muttering something that sounded like "Hmmm. That's sweet.", aiming to serve the new customer who just walked in the tavern.

"Tch. Is it 'Hit On Sakuraba Day'?" Sakuraba grumbled, groaning airily while his two hands got busy splitting his chopsticks, mind ranting about his long day. A certain phrase halted his ministrations.

"...Saku...chan? Where the hell did that come from?!"

It was a long day indeed.

His ears caught the wind of the conversation. "...Marks?" Sakuraba temporarily stopped ravishing his meal and listened in. "Three Mark Hunts? I wonder if I could get one..."

He swiveled the bar stool around, his back facing the counter, looking at the Grand Magistrate blankly. To his surprise (It was a good thing that his face was not betraying him to show his emotions when he wanted to, unless you push the right buttons...), the Vice Magistrate was present as well.

"This might be serious then," Sakuraba mumbled to himself as he lit a stick to relieve some tension.

The Grand Magistrate's words piqued the raven's interest. "Another Mark Hunt, eh?" Knowing that he needed to decide quickly, asking Charon would perhaps be the easiest way, but to shoot his own neck with a gun to summon him, that would certainly cause a commotion in the tavern. With arms crossed, cigarette still between his lips, Sakuraba sent an interested look at the Grand Magistrate.

"If you would not mind, may I take the Mark, Grand Magistrate-" Sakuraba uttered with confidence, although uncertainty tainted his response near the end. "...ah, -dono?" Apparently, his Nihon descent was evident. The obvious scratching of raven locks marked the male's uneasiness. A drag of smoke minimized the man's tension, sending wisp after wisp of pristine white, vanilla-tinged clouds. Mismatched orbs hid his emotion; hope glimmering behind their blank look.

Domitrix wrote:An eyebrow raised slightly towards the High Ranger's mention of a 'storm brewing'. The intake of such information enabled purse of outward lip in concern, before taking the top layer of parchment and turning around to face the replying male.

The idea was not to give the contract to just anyone, so a moment of study was spared in grace. Firebricks carefully analyzed the male, focusing a quick medincant of prespectives, in relying sheerly upon a soldier's gut instinct. With enough seconds awarded to the demon, the harmonic pace of the twin onyx heeled greaves carved their way towards the sitting person of address. The rest of the papers were left at the initial table, with the exemption of the one in the grip of his matching plated gauntlets.

"Phoenix." was the sole word that escaped in detail from Empyreal's lips, ones that seemed to have been cleansed of any burden of emotion. It was the name written into the parchment, as the header above the entire body that was the contract. The paper included the location, the petitioner, the reward, and the crimes of the beast. Along with any tips of information retrieved by either locals, or observed by proffessional hunters and Marksmen alike.

Wrist canted forward, allowing the fine papyrus leaf to fall in bend before the man, in simultaneous descent of crimson ocules that swirled a fine revolution in their casings, dancing the flames through an omen of a visage, in direct contact with the eyes of his own, "Sore wa kekkōdesu. Anata wa watashi no Domitrix o yobidasu shite kudasai ni." parted the four incisors in speech, before the very face attempted to curve a seldom smile at the end of the demon's maw.

"Ah... Sumimasen. Boku wa Sakuraba Ryuichiro de arimasu. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu," the male spoke in response, stepping away from his seat and pacing towards the Order's leader, introducing himself in a casual tone despite his formal choice of words. Fluent Nihon flowed out of the Grand Magistrate's lips, much to his 'hidden' surprise and amusement. A lower than usual bow marked his respect for the Grand Magistrate, and soon after, Sakuraba took a drag of smoke he almost forgot he had.

"I'm amazed you speak Nihon well, Grand Magistrate-dono. Oh, by the way, I appreciate your generosity for providing me a Mark to hunt," he said with a very small grin. He crossed his arms and gazed at the Vice Magistrate, raising a brow in understanding. "I believe that I am taking your time for more important things. Where would I go to get the details for my Mark?" he queried calmly, eyes locked at the leader's intimidating presence. An unnerving situation indeed, having a conversation with the Grand Magistrate in person, all the more inside the Serene Sunset Tavern.

Mismatched orbs followed the high ranking men of the Order. Disbelief etched his features, then smoothed by relief.

"I'm quite surprised. My land is not really that popular; it's a bit shocking that your Highness knew about the Northeastern part of the Orient, not to mention the history behind it. I must say I'm pretty impressed," he started, hoping that his fried nerves would soon be okay. "It is an honor to be invited by the Grand Magistrate to sit together with the Vice Magistrate over this man's choice of liquor. I am looking forward to the day it shall commence," said the raven, calm composure regained. Dainty, almost feminine movements traced a trail of smoke as the raven indulged in a drag of his burning tobacco. "The Sky Docks? Got it. As soon as I get the 'go' signal, I'm rushing there."

Jovial laughter emanated from the Vice Magistrate. An amused gaze landed on the chuckling man. "You're actually looking pretty good, Vice Magistrate-dono; unlike me. It seems that I'm pretty late in reaching adolescence." A mere scratching of his head marked the raven's embarrassment, him hoping that it would not be that obvious. "Oh, vacation, you say? I actually felt that I'm in a rut for an awfully long time. A bit of field work sounds really good as of the moment."

Regal words and notions of something important to be discussed occupied the sibling's conversation. As the two high-ranked men gave their respective goodbyes, Sakuraba bowed in response and watched them head out. A sigh of relief passed out of his lips, together with the air he did not know he was holding.

Footsteps blended with the tavern noise when the raven paced towards his seat at the bar counter. Eyes closed, Sakuraba rustled to his seat, popping a few joints of his neck. 'Yosh. Now I can return to...'

Onyx and ruby hues widened at the sight of Kazu, the other's forest green eyes fixed on his. His gaping mouth presented a chance for the Nihon tender to stuff it with sushi. "O-me-de-tou." A warm hand ruffled his spikes, Kazu beaming as if he was patting a mutt's head for a job well done.

"Tch... You-"

"Nu-ugh, Saku-chan. Mind your manners. No talking when your mouth is full." A sweat drop ran along the raven's temple. Seriously, Charon was obnoxious at times, but this was exponential in magnitude. Swallowing down the intruder, Sakuraba opened his mouth to speak.

"May I know your age, shounen?"

"Eighteen, Saku-chan."

"...you do know that I'm older than you, right?"

The young lad returned to his bar duties. "Very much. Twenty-three. You don't look that old though."

"...patronizing your elders, much?"

A chuckle echoed in the bar area. "Yeah, you could say that," Kazu stifled a full-blown laughfest, squeaking of cloth against glass permeating the air between them. The young tender always liked making lead crystal hold its reputation. "It's just fun talking to you when you're all worked up, I guess. First time I see your composure flush down the drain, without your pseudo-twin around."

The raven sighed, blushing faintly, thinking if he would consider it as a compliment or a joke. "I'd rather not talk about that in case this conversation might get, ugh, somewhere."

"Touché."

A few words piqued the interest of the crimson raven, suddenly not minding the young tender's apparent hobby of ticking him off. "Hmmm. Someone's aspiring for a Mark, eh?" he muttered to himself. Sakuraba twisted a little to glance at the man who was playing the harmonica earlier, which reminded him of a certain group of musicians back home. The lone, exposed onyx orb scanned the man who confidently asked the Grand Magistrate to offer him a slot for the Mark Hunt. "Things will get interesting from now on, I believe."

"Ne, Saku-chan," Kazu spoke absent-mindedly, "he participated in the Gneuyet Mark Hunt, na? I wish I could join the Hunts as well, but a lot of work is needed here." The young man hung the goblet he had been polishing at the overhead glassware holder. Sakuraba raised a groomed eyebrow at the barkeep's statement.

"You're a Marksman as well?" he queried, still looking at the man who was playing earlier, then turned around to face Kazu.

"You could say so," he trailed off, sporting a goofy grin. "The real-life drama on the field just didn't suit my taste. Fixing dinner and cocktails is my thing, so I ended up here." Kazu cracked a few knuckles and raised his shirt to show an intricately carved sheaths of paired blades no longer than half his arms. "These babies served me well during those days." A tap of affection reached the blades' handle and Kazu's eyes reflected nostalgia, a wayward look gracing his boyish features. It quickly faded and a perverted smirk emerged. "I think I'll have a good time when we are together in a Hunt." Hiding the blades, he fished his pocket for a tobacco stick and lit it, leaning against the wine rack while blowing a stream of white smoke.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just felt like it. Well, too bad I'm stuck here attending to your Nihon palate."

"..."

"Cat got your tongue, Saku-chan?"

Growling in irritation, he took a drag of smoke and tightly bit the filter of his cigarette. "That's Sakuraba for you."

"Whatever... Hey, you look constipated." The young male fought the urge to laugh but failed miserably, bubbles of chuckles reverberating at the bar area.

"You really like making fun of me, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Go to hell."

"Love ya too, Saku-chan."

Coughing fits of a certain raven replaced the young tender's fading laughter as the latter attended to another customer.

A firmly placed palm upon the center of the oak surface of the tavern door pressed the ediface open to reveal the stature of a man dressed in a flowing, black robe spanning from his shoulders to his soles along the floor. Bundles of the cloth drape down his back in the form of a hood which had been displaced from his head to reveal a face wrapped with the same dark colored cloth around his eyes to conceal the useless occules beneath. Stubs of prickled folicles line around his jaw, and somewhat gleam in the dim lighting of the facility. A steady stroll placed Mintaboo at, then upon a stool located just in front of the bar. An overly developed sense of hearing brought light to the conversations of the patrons within the tavern. Though he could hear them as clearly as if he had seated just beside them, their audible conversation made very little sense to him. Tapping of a boney knuckle upon the bar surface drew Mintaboo's attention to the barkeep behind. "Any of you selection of spirits will do. I'm not all that particular." he stated in a quiet, hushed tone.

Lengthy fingers to grasp the base of the glass container filled just below the brim with the copper toned liquor. Swirling the liquid in a clockwise motion the nostrils of the shaman flare as they take in the the intoxicating scent before placing the rim to his lips and partaking in a small portion. A delighted grin spread across the weary face of the traveler as his gullet motioned in a swallowing manner. "I must say, these spirits are delightful." the compliment of the alcohol beckoned a small smile from the ever polite barkeep. Althought Mintaboo could not see the expression first hand, he somehow knew he had pleased the gracious man with his words of praise. "Why, if I were to become acustomed to brandy of this quality, I may find myself an alcoholic yet." the flattery continued as he consumed another portion from the glass grail. Whispers and dialogue continue to string into the ears of Mintaboo as he tried to make sense of it all. What were these things? These "marks"? They seemed to be ever popular among the patrons of the establishment. As he listened, Mintaboo tried his best to make sense of it all.