'What in the HELL am I doing here?!' Azreal couldn't help but scream at herself mentally as she stood a few feet away from the bar and stared at it. She had been stone cold sober for months now, and that alone was quite the feat for the vampyress, was normally almost always drunk but recently she'd toned it down - damn near kicked the habit even. Now here she was, standing in the middle of a pub looking to throw five months three weeks and 2 days worth of not being drunk and passed out on her living room floor sober living away.

Sighing, she tugged her black leather trench a bit closer to her body and sighed. Tonight, she was dressed as neutral and as she could, no crimson clothing covered her body tonight, just black, all black. She adored that color, being what she was, it was the best choice if you wanted to remain unnoticed.

Finally making up her mind, Azreal, or now as she was called, Professor Reinhardt, walked slowly toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, a seat or two away from Mr. O'Donnell and ordered a herself a drink. While she waited, she slid the trench from her body and set it across her lap, revealing what she wore underneath - a black corset top, skin tight jeans and knee-high black boots whose heels would have added to her already more than average height had she been standing. A few of the men, quite predictably, began to stare. She sighed heavily.

Men were such pigs sometimes...

Ignoring them, she took the mug she'd been handed and stared into it at the frothy liquid. Beer. It had been far too long since her last drink, so she sipped slowly and savored the taste. "Mmmm, this is lovely. God! I have been sober for far too long!" she said to herself and laughed lightly before taking yet another slow savoring sip. Between sips, she took the opportunity to observe the people around her. It had been a while since she'd drank socially.

How long ago was that - a decade, two, three?!

She couldn't ever remember. Azreal laughed again, not knowing the fact warranted a moment of silence or self-pity or something other than wry amusement.

"Tch. I need to get out more." came her under-breath muttering as she polished off the beer and ordered another. While waiting, she felt someone looking at her. Not that people weren't looking at her, it was just that this presence felt - familiar? Turning to look in the direction she spotted one of the other professor of LSME sitting not too far away from her.

'Gah. What was his name again? He is the Potions Master. Um, Irish I believe. I heard a student say it sometime today! Damn, I am going senile far too soon. What was it again? O'Gravy - no no no. O'Connor, close but no.... O'Donnell!'

She smiled quite hesitantly at him, almost shyly and raised her voice so that she could be heard over the din.

"Good Evening, Mr. O'Donnell."

"Are you... sure a heavier draft is what ya really need? You wouldn't want ta go back to old habits now, would ya?"

"Old habits would be most welcome at this moment Jack...." she said evenly and tried to compose herself. After a minute or so had elapsed, her colour had returned to normal, but her eyes remained haunted. In her mind, she still saw images of Jacques, Roman and Stella all dying in horrible unspeakable ways. "Yes, getting drunk would be very nice right about now, Mr O'Donnell." she said, her voice now at back to its normal tones.

Waving down the busy bartender, Azreal ordered a stronger draft and was promptly served. Instead of downing it like she had thought she would have, she stared absently into it. "You know... sometimes you think you have planned everything fully, but then -- you suddenly realize that when planning you overlooked something... something important. " she paused and sighed heavily and thought of her friends, her colleagues. She hadn't thought of them when she left Deimos, only herself. Had they worried about her? Had they been able to protect Deimos - had they been able to protect themselves?....

"I forgot to include that something important in my plans. So now, many years after, I remember that very important something I happened to overlook and realize that in neglecting it, I may have lost it." Azreal's voice seemed to have taken on an accent now, one that was hard to place, but unlike the surname she was bearing at the time, they did not match, it was NOT a German accent. She sighed and took a long haul of the draft and sighed.

"I may not be making much sense, but I assure you, I am not drunk.... it was a thought that caused my little lapse a while back.... the thought of the way that special something may have been taken away from me. And only the Goddess knows why I'm speaking like this to you, but something is over-riding my better judgement and it is not the beer...." she laughed now, a cold hard laugh. "Maybe Mr. O'Donnell, if I get drunk enough tonight, you will come to understand what my senseless babbling is about." she said and drank down what remained of her drink before looking over to Jack and giving him a wry smile.

He probably thought her insane or insane AND drunk.

The Goddess knew what he would think if he ever found out about her past.


{Krazy H: I love the rhetoric in you posts, and I'm back-ish. Semi-return of muse!}

Azreal chuckled a bit as Jack had joked about his being drunk and shook her head at him. He was really nice to her, keeping her company, speaking to her, joking with her – hell, he even listened to her babbling. As she looked over at Jack, her expression as neutral as it ever had been as he voiced his opinions on what she had just revealed, and her mind told her that he could eventually be trusted. He didn’t judge her words; he seemed to be trying to understand her. That touched her, other rarely tried, and they just accepted her as she was, all the masks she wore and walls she’d erected. They often deemed her too cold – but she was by choice and too complicated which she wasn’t.

Actually Azreal was pretty easy to figure out; all you needed to do was remove the masks. The walls would come down eventually, but once the masks were gone, you could read her quite easily. She smiled at Jack, what was this, the second or third time for the night? and quite on impulse, she leaned over and kissed him on the check. “Thank you Jack, both for your input and for tolerating me and my rubbish,” she said and drew back, pausing to order yet another draft before continuing. “Despite you not knowing the context in which I was speaking, you did help me a bit. But rectifying the situation is out of the question…. Too risky, too dangerous but if I could, I would in a heart-beat.” The vampyress said, her voice ringing with sincerity, the strange accent was it French?! still present.

It was true, if searching out Deimos and the others was possible without causing harm to the children and other innocent parties at LSME, she would search for them and re-establish contact. But sadly, she knew that doing so was impossible, they would want her to become an assassin once again and trade up her soul.

‘To become a being without a conscience….’

The sobering thought made her frown into her drink before she swallowed a huge gulp. Idly, she looked at him, her oddly coloured eyes regarding him with a questioning look.

“Hey Jack…. Drinking contest? You versus me? Care to play? Cost on me of course, I’ve been miser-ing away my money for over a century now, time to put it to good use.”

“Sound like fun?”

Her eyes were now dancing with mischief and slight amusement. She was unsure as how he’d take her proposal, heck, she was unsure of how’d taken the peck on the cheek even if he refused, the idea of it had enthused her. An enthused Azreal was rare….

‘Come on O’Donnell, say yes!’ her eyes silently dared him.

‘Say yes.’

"You're on!"

Azreal smiled, really and truly smiled. Not a smirk or a faint lifting of the corners of her mouth, she was grinning hugely - flashing her pearly whites at him, including her fangs and her oddly-coloured eyes were dancing. Doing that made her seem far more approachable as odd as an approachable Azreal may seem, more friendly too. “When you loose Jack, I promise I will not rib you nor rub in your loss,” she teased before adding mischievously, “Though I would like to claim my prize without protest! I am not too sure as to what I will claim, but I swear I shall not bite you….” Azreal grinned again, teasing him before swinging around to face the bar table.

"A round of drinks, lad. We be competing tonight!"

Still bearing that silly girlish grin on her face, the pyress snorted and looked at her companion idly though heavy dark lashes. “Mmmmm…. This will be fun…. I wonder how much liquor a half-elf can consume before passing out.” She muttered as she averted her gaze to study the groups of huge tankards that were placed in front of both her and Jack respectively. Eyes had already been drawn to the both of them; the drunken leers that had been focused on the busty female were transformed into ones of wry amusement. Un-amused, Azreal snorted but refused to acknowledge the spectators further.

‘Game time!’

Eyeing the glasses critically, her spirits wavered somewhat as she thought of how long ago she’d participated in a drinking contest. Deimos had almost always won, Az had always been a close second with Stella and Roman almost always tying is Roman hadn’t taken third and poor Jaques… he always lost – he never really had a head for liquor, he got drunk after 8 glasses --- lightweight.

“Hn…. Jack, might I ask what you would claim on the slightest chance that you may beat me?” she queried somewhat sheepishly, looking over at him and biting down on her bottom lip. Without giving him a chance to answer, she shook her head and turned her attention to the bartender.

“On your cue… the count of three perhaps?” she said kindly, pushing the coin for all the drinks toward him and a generous bonus. His eyes never wavered nor did his expression as he pocketed the coin and stared at the two competitors.

“Ready?”

Az nodded the affirmative, despite knowing she probably wouldn’t make it very far.

“ 1…”

She sighed and took a deep breath.

“2…”

She grabbed a hold of the handle of the first mug and rolled her eyes.

“3!...”

‘Please Goddess, let me down more than Jacques’ pitiful record of 8 glasses….’ She thought amusedly as she lifted the glass to her lips and downed it before glancing over at Jack and grinning once again.

'Living-room floor, here I come. Damn I missed you....

From the way that the room was already starting to look…. funny, Jack was already well on his way to earning himself that steak. Azreal was seriously out of practise, the room never went all creepy until after she’d drunk ten mugs, not five! Yes, after the first mug, everything else went by rather quickly. The second, third, and fourth glasses went down easily enough…..

‘Hn… so THIS is how Jacques feels when we had drinking contests – totally inept. I hate this feeling…. I wonder if I can get rid of it by drinking more or whatever the hell I happen to be guzzling now. Hnnn, it IS worth the try…. I think I’m thinking too much, probably already slightly tipsy…. Well, this competition is going splendidly...’

Sighing heavily and shaking her head, she grabbed the handle of yet another mug and held it to her lips, eventually tilting her head back to drain it. “Number 6….. now for number 7….” She grabbed the mug and hesitated long enough to look at Jack. ‘Probably doing far better than I am in the not drunk area.’ the pyress thought dismally and proceeded to drain that glass as well, some of the liquid had managed to trickle down her neck and before it could get any further, she wiped it away with her free hand. Much to the disappointment of some of her male on-lookers who had been hoping that the liquid would soak into her top…. Perverts.

“How are you over there, Jack?” she managed to ask before grabbing mug numero ocho and set to it, trying valiantly to drink it down fast. The room looked really messed up now, but the good news was she was still talking without the notable drunken slur. ‘Point one for team Azreal. Maybe I should have just stayed quiet instead of shooting my mouth of, however playfully it was done.’ Azreal thought dryly smacking the mug down on the table forcefully before grabbing hold of the ninth mug.

‘Please let Jack be behind me… please, please, please dear Goddess.’

'If I can make it to twelve before he does without passing out on the dirty wooden floor I will never lay hands on another bottle or liquor until….. until the hangover I get from this passes!...’

Mugs nine and ten were emptied each after the other and Azreal’s blue-grey eyes looked slightly cloudy and as for the room, it was a pretty blur of colours and shapes.

The room was spinning too....

‘Well, this can’t be good…. But its pretty....’

She paused and looked over to Jack before daring to set her hands on another brown blob in front of her which she had positively identified as the blob that was to be her mug of liquor.

If he had downed less than her, she won.

If he had downed more then her, she lost.

But he had somehow downed the same amount as she had, the next mug would be the tie-breaker.

‘Let’s see, how many empty brown blobs are there in front of Jack…..’

She couldn't exactly tell.... the pretty brown blobs were moving.

Azreal was officially drunk.

{Krazy H: Yeah, I adore this game and the fact that Az and Jack are immortal. }