Fresh Meat

Purgatory Tavern
 * The Purgatory Tavern, a popular hangout for Necromundus' longtime

denizens and newcomers alike, mostly takes advantage of natural light - or the lack thereof. The sometimes wobbly tables and crooked-backed chairs are scattered throughout blue and violet shadows that are only vaguely disturbed by the illumination provided through porthole-like windows by the glowing archways in the nearby Portal Plaza.

Garviel is seated at a table, an all but finished meal in front of him. His axe and armor are all with him.

Phoenix walks into the tavern, heading towards the bar. She hums softly to herself, carrying a bag.

Garviel glances over as Phoenix enters the tavern, nodding a little to her, tail flicking back and forth slowly behind him.

Phoenix waves absently to Garviel, padding over to the bar and handing over the bag. The bartender opens it, sorting through the contents; once he's done, he takes the bag to the back room and then washes his hands. When he returns, he hands Ix a stack of credits. She takes these, heading over to a table and humming to herself.

"Good hunting?" Garvi askes once Ix nears, his snout tilted up slightly as he questions.

Phoenix nods, "Quite good. Plus, whoever was hunting on those grounds before me was messy. They left a lot lying around that I picked up."

Garviel makes that odd chuckling noise again, "Wouldn't be me, only things I've left arround no one would pay forr, and can't say I've been hunting forr a while now,"

Bakonawa makes his way through the tavern quickly.

With just a snap of invisible fingers, Meldor the code monkey is suddenly in the tavern, already at a seat.

Phoenix wiggles her fingers at the codemonkey, "'Ey." She shrugs to Garviel, "Eh. I clean up after myself, too. 'S just...weird that some people don't, y'know? I mean, I found a gila tongue, an' about a dozen mudbear paws just lyin' around."

Garviel tilts his snout again, "That is odd. Only thing I've left arround is a few carrapaces, no one would buy them." he doesn't seem too phased by the appearance of the code monkey, nodding to him before turning back to Phoenix, "But I haven't been hunting in a while, been building up funds, overr a million crredits now," his tail wags slightly, flicking back and forth, his muzzle is expressionless however.

"Nah, the pawn shop buys 'em," Ix replies. "Just not eyes, y'know." A shrug and she wiggles her fingers in the direction of the bar. A few moments later, there's a few credits on the bar-top, and a bottle of whiskey in front of Ix.

"Oh yes," Meldor says in that sarcy british accent. "Magic. Indeed," he says dryly to Ix.

Garviel and Ix are seated at a table, a bottle of whiskey in front of the demon. The white wolf is armed and armored, a recently finished dinner in front of him. The Code Monkey is off at another table, Garvi tilts his snout again, "The Pawn Shop wouldn't buy the carrapaces frrom me, odd," he flattens his ears a little, before he shrugs and they return to normal, "No matterr, I've plenty of money as is, a little morre wouldn't go too farr,"

Phoenix considers this and hmms, "Stonecrawler carapaces? Or somethin' else? 'Cause they bought one from me." She grins at the codemonkey, "Eh. You do it your way, I'll do it mine."

Meldor taps the air a few times, big bowl of food appearing in front of him. Mmm. Peaches. He merely smirks at Ix.

Raeft enters the bar slowly, glancing around long enough to register Garviel and Ix at a table. He gives them a wave, looking distinctly ruffled (especially about the feathers), and tired. Dropping into a chair at an isolated and shadowy table in the corner near the door, the Demon lays his still-bloody (and somehow dusty) sword on the chair next to him, slowly unbuckling his elegant full plate to settle it in the corner behind him where it will be safe. The sword and armor are a thing of beauty, of course, made up in silver and gold and generally glowing from within. Raeft is shirtless underneath, as usual, and wearing tight black jeans. He pulls a flask of his own from somewhere and takes a long pull, before likewise pulling a glass from somewhere to pour out a measure, close the flask, and toss it atop the heap of armor. His sword is carefully not far out of reach, of course. The code monkey gets a quiet look, and a broad smile, from the amused demon.

Phoenix waves back to Raeft, opening her bottle of whiskey and sipping from it. "Good hunting?" she asks the other demon. She leans back in her seat, shifting slightly to get comfortable.

The door to the Tavern doesn't burst open at the next entrant to the Tavern. Her boots clop slowly aganist the floor, catiously, matching the demeanor of the women who wears them. She's got an outfit that's rather unconventional here, pants and a blouse in a digital camoflauge, molted greens, browns, and blacks. Her head is topped off with a rakish blue beret, and, honestly, the clothing looks almost new, compared to the woman, who looks very, very dirty.

She approches the bar, not saying anything, looking as if she really doesn't beleive anything she's seeing right now.

"Didn't buy one frrom me, but maybe I'll check in with him sometime, it's not too big of a deal to me though, thanks though," the white wolf replies to Phoenix, still in his low growl of a voice. The new demon gets another nod, and the new woman, she gets a nod from the Lupoid and a bit of a chuckle, which coming from a wolf's snout? Sounds like a cross between a bark and a howl.

Raeft smirks at Phoenix. "I made it with my own sweat, the armor. Hunting was good indeed. It has a life of its own. and the sword is something truly special, though maybe it's too heavy and slow on the riposte or block." The demon's expansive, feather-covered wings lash down around him like a black cloak which leaves only his arms uncovered, and also "guards" his flanks on either side. The newcomer draws an appraising glance from the shadows, red eyes flaring into life and tracking her to the bar. Raeft doesn't say anything though, just moves his sword to his lap, knocking back the small glass he'd poured for himself, and then quite literally belching a small plume of flame with a murmured: "'scuse."

Phoenix raises her eyebrows at Raeft's flaming burp, "..I think you need a little less..somethin', if you're burping flames." She looks over at the newcomer as well, tilting her head to one side and hmmming to herself.

The woman... jumps, or, at the very least, twitching at the wierd stuff... which is everything. The apperance of the place itself, bealching fire, the fact that there was a bloody /two legged dog/ right there. She seems to sit in a small state of shock for a few seconds, before turning almost violently to Garviel, eyes alight. "You find somethin' fuckin' /funny/, mate?" He accent is undobtably English. "You know what would be a /laugh/ for me? If you told me who the fuck you are, and where the /FUCK/ am I."

Garviel flattens his ears a little at the violent attitude, paw straying towards his axe, perhaps just in caution though "My name is Garrviel Fairrskinned, I'm a Lupoid. You happen to be standing in the Purrgetorry Taverrn in the main city of Necrromundus...and I should add that you'rre dead, we'rre all dead and ended up herre," he replies, watching the woman, ears still slicked back.

Raeft sighs expansively, cutting in before anyone gets shot or cut in half. You can lose pieces that way. "I believe I may be the best guide for that..." His wings flip back, and in the shadows it may be easier to believe they are simply patches of deeper shadow. His voice is not its usual pure honey, but a gruffer, more commanding tone. "Raeft. General of the Descendent Hosts. You have, unfortunately. Died. Don't try to fight it, don't tell me "that's impossible", because it's pointless one of us will cut you in half to prove it, and then you'll reappear outside this bar, angry, and come back in to try and kill us, and a young lady can get stuck in quite the vicious cycle in that fashion. We're here to ease the transition, and Garviel over there did not mean his laugh unkindly, nor deserve what is surely a justified outburst. If you need to beat up on someone, verbally or otherwise... pick me, I like it." A dark tail lashes around to pull out a chair from the table. "Sit down, before you kill someone to let off the stress, and name your drink preference... Phoenix, Sir Garviel, wanna come over and tell the inductee what she's in for? We can swap our death tales too..." Keep 'em off balance is the name of Raeft's game, and he plays it well. The sword has been deftly whisked under his chair as he places both hands on the tabletop, and lays aside his flask. "Nice to meet you, miss..." And, to end his diatribe, the demon holds out an unclawed and unusually long-fingered hand across the table toward where she's just come in through the door. His smile seems to be one of genuine pleasure, and his voice has returned to a honey-syrup mixture.

Phoenix wrinkles her nose at Raeft, "Mine's *gory*, though. An' I'm not nearly drunk enough t' tell it. So Garvi goes first." A shrug and she scoots her chair closer to Raeft, studying the new woman and shifting as her wings stretch and then fold back again.

The woman looks rather like a caged animal, at the moment, given that she's just noticed two rather... winged creatures around her, not to mention that dog-thing seems to have flattened it's ears. That was a bad sign. But...

Dead? Who the /fuck/ were they kidding?

Amanda walks forward purposfully, grabbing the proffered hand, and, with a well-practiced and rather strong /twist/, attempts to tear it around the demon, slamming it behind his back, and, at the same time, move to sweep the chair he's in out from under him. "Why the bleedin' /hell/ should I beleive you, huh? You ain't on th' Ally or Threat cards, which means, suprise, suprise..." She leans closer, whatever state she's managed to get him in. "You're a fuckin' threat, or this Army of yours is, 'General'. An' don't pretend ya don't know who /we/ are."

Gildesh slips into the tavern just in time to see the wrestling match. Since it seems the individual does not wish to be involved in such theatrics, he edges along the wall until he reaches the gambler's den.

Arturius strides into the bar sheathing his sword, noticing the disturbance his hand automatically goes down towards it once more. He shoots a glance towards Garviel, a slightly knowing look in the humanoid's eyes, and there's a question lingering there.

Garviel stands at the first sign of violence, ears definitely flat now. The armored wolf as his axe in paw now, glaring at the two, "I'd prreferr /not/ to show you that everry last one of us standing in this taverrn is dead, so please /listen/ miss," he says, "We'rre all dead, all of us, and therre isn't a thing you can do about it," he glances towards Arturius, giving a flick of his snout, before he turns back to look at the wrestling two, some of his teeth showing now.

She catches the demon by surprise. He's got some demon-strength drinks in him, and he's usually pretty relaxed in the city. Then again, he'll be more cautious with newcomers in future. In the split second before the blow is intended to slam him to the ground, Raeft appraises Gildesh and Arturius on the general scale of thing/food/threat, finds neither a threat for the moment, and yields to the blow. He could have thrown her across the room and broken something, but that was not likely to gain her trust at this point. It isn't much of a wrestling match. Raeft manages to turn his body enough in the split second that the chair has left the floor beneath him, that his feet are pointed downward. He then sinks /into/ the floor upto his waist. This gives him, hopefully, enough leverage to shift her grip, whip her out in -front- of him (since he's "standing" a few feet under the floor, torso upright), and give her a single open-handed slap across the face, modulated to do no more than leave a red mark, refusing to release her wrist while trying to yank the arm out of its socket. Assuming this had succeeded, Raeft would intone at rapid clip: "Calm the fuck down or I will put you under this floor and leave you there in a hellish void halfway between living and death, continually coccooned in stone foundations until you go mad, and then will unleash you into Agickin theme park to fornicate with the other demons there, So Help Me Gods And Deities And Anything Else That Will Answer My Call I Will..." This last would be said in a fierce voice, complete with red glowing eyes, bared fangs, and a not unkind pat on the hand he had been refusing to release. The voice comes up out of anything that could be called "demon" in him. He's not uncomfortable, halfway in the floor, but he is in prime space for her to kick him in the face if she hasn't listened to Garviel or the Demon yet... His wings are completely above the floor, spread broad, and his tail is behind his head like a scorpion's sting... but he knows he's at a disadvantage, what with no armor or blade and only his magic at hand.

Yes, his legendary sword and armor have flown off into the corners of the room and been generally battered. He is not a happy demon.

Phoenix doesn't look like she's about to help Amanda any, either. Indeed, she's bouncing in her chair, asking Raeft, "Can I neuter her? Can I? Can I, please? I've got knives an' everything! I can do it right here!" It's unsettlingly similar to a small child asking for an extra-special treat.

The movement is successful, because it's not something the blue-bereted woman is expecting. She would have made to neutralize the wings and tail as best she could. But for the man (or whatever this thing was) to /sink/ through the floor? She's caught back on her feet, the slap of the hand leaving an almost red welt on her cheek. She's stunned, that's for sure, swinging around to view the dog, and then the other winged creature... which says the most disturbing thing. She's silent for a few moments, backing herself up so her rear is to a wall. "How... what's your technique? Drugs? cybernetics? What? What are you using? Huh?" Her speech is almost frantic, at this point. "You expect me to beleive any of that, any of this?"

Yup, Gildesh is not here to get tossed around like some sort of mortal, or be accused of taking drugs. He meekly slips from the Gambler's Den in the direction of the door.

"Nobody's neutering anybody," says Arturius hand on his sword. "I've been through this a few times," he offers Amanda an engaging smile. "They can't kill you, you're already dead, but they will try to seduce you for their own ends." He offers Raeft a challenging stare, "It's an eternal battle, but even if he strikes us down now, we'll be back."

Raeft rises from the floor, dusting himself off. His armor dematerializes at a wave, and then reappears in full, demonic plate on his body. "Will. Here in Necromundus, will is almost everything. Phoenix, you are forbidden to harm her without my say-so, or I'll have you on report..." a wink at the wrath demon, from Raeft. "Treat her right, okay? She's free to believe what she wants." Sighing, the demon gives Amanda a look that is not pitying, but moreso of respect twinged with mild amusement. "Just, eat and drink something, okay? They do a GOOD coffee. And do not believe what the Ascendants say about us, alright? We are here to help free people of inhibition and worldly worries, affter alll..." He licks his lips with a serpentine tongue, "People do not often drop me so effectively. I was surprised, but I will not belittle martial skill where I see it." In his wake, the Demon drops a broadsword. "Learn to use a blade...you will need it." The sword, wafting to the floor in defiance of local gravity, and settling in the Demon's sweeping wake, flashes briefly silver and gold before becoming dull metal once more. "Everyone in Necromundus gets to slap me around once for free. Oh, and to lay me. That they can do multiple times though." and, he's out the door, with a brief nod to Arturius on his way out, and that infuriating smile...

Garviel nods to Arturius, "That's corrrrect, no one is neuterring anyone," he looks to Phoenix, ears flicking back for a brief moment again, before they come back up. It's at this point that he moves over towards Amanda. He grabs a chair from a table and sits a bit of a distance in front of her, his axe across his lap, still ready but no longer threatening, "I'm as serrious as I can be when I say that you and everryone in this taverrn is dead with no hope of coming back. We'rre not doing a thing to you but trrying to explain that. If you rreally want, I can demonstrrate, but I'd rreally, rreally prreferr not to."


 * The afterlife's newest catgirl walks in while the demon is talking, stopping to listen. The ascendants... she's yet to meet one of those. She shivers when he gets to the last couple sentences. .oO( Not in a million years... )

Arturius watches Raeft's exit with a raised eyebrow, "Speak for yourself. I've been and gone a few times." He nods at Amanda, "You can." He heads towards a chair near Garviel, "Didn't I know you?"

"Awww...." Ix whines. "Not even a little?" She shrugs, wings twitching, "Well. He didn't say I can't do contracts." Arturius is eyeballed and then Ix snorts to herself, returning her attention to Amanda, "D'you need anything? Money? Weapons? Armor?"

Amanda is still a bit in shock, but, lucky for her it's the type that numbs the person enough so that they can rationally act. She nods, slightly, looking at the larger, physics-beating Demon as he leaves. What the /hell/... this was...

Arturius gets a look, himself, her eyes focusing on the man's wings, as she backs up a bit more. "What makes you think I'll trust you any more than I trust them. I don't see anything you're wearin' that tells me I should listen ta you." Her accent is English. Heavily. Ix gets a withering look, as she recovering, slowly. "You give me what ever you've got. don't think it'll buy ya anything, understood?"

And the dog gets the last look. "You bleeive what delusions you want. "I'm not dead. And I'm /going/ to get to the bottom of this."


 * Mizuki looks over at Amanda. "You're new here, too? So what's the last thing you remember?"

Garviel lets out a bit of a sigh, which from a wolf, sounds slightly like a whimper, "You /arre/ dead, and so arre the rrest of us. I don't want to, but I can prrove it by killing anyone herre, they'll show up rright outside this taverrn again, completely well, just without money and feeling rratherr hungerry," he stands, axe in paw again. He glances at Arturius, "Went by the name of Jantine Osligoth in life, if you knew him, we've met beforre," he looks back to Amanda, "Do you want a demonstrration? I'd prreferr if you could just accept it, though, honestly."

"You *are* dead, m'dear," Ix tells Amanda cheerfully. "An' I'm not giving you *anything* without a contract. But it's *real* easy t' whip one up." She snaps her fingers and a piece of parchment hovers in the air between Ix and Amanda, words quickly filling it. "How much d'you want, an' what do you wanna offer as collateral?"

"I've had a few," nods Arturius to Garviel. "But they're mixed, Jeff Ryan, Drake Miller and Arturius Paendracanus are the most recent." A small smile, "I remember you, briefly." He glances at Amanda, "You can trust me because I'm one of you, though I admit to serving the Light, the Big Man in the Sky." He frowns at that, "Not that I entirely remember why most of the time, favors done do not equal favors owed."

Raeft peeks back in the door, walking over to his table to scoop up the flask. "Err, stuff's hard to come by." Then, he's over peering at Ix's contract. "I don't think she'll go for it." Broad wings flap down around him once more, cloaking the creature's bright armor in armored feathers for a moment. He looks around. "What? I'm better at exits than entrances, okay?" Arturius doesn't get a laugh, or even a snerk, it's a full-fledged belly laugh. "At least my boss isn't so sanctimonious." And then he falls silent, tail belting his wings around him, one gauntleted hand resting lightly on each hip.

Amanda unconsciously, (or perhaps all too awarily), backs furthur into the room when Raeft appears, again. She looks between Arturius, and Raeft, responding to the former first. "M'/not/ whatever ya are. You sound like a holdover from somethin' on that bloody Yankee Broadway. I don't see a blue beret, or a th' branch an' Arctic on your arm, so you're out that way, too." Raeft and his apparant aissitant get another look. "I'm not signin' anything. I'm not one ta be bought. Ya want t' 'give' my anythin', be my guest. That's it." The Dog is addressed next. "Ya can do anythin' ya want. It'll just be th' drugs, or... suggestion. I've read up on my literature, an' I spent time in that hellhole in Canton."

She finally looks to Mizuki, weighing options. "...I was at Regiment CP. We were ambushed by Fredenzians, from th' look an' th' sound a' th' weapons. I was callin' in th' Tornados when... somethin' happened t' my short term memory."

Into the tavern swoops one *very* large white-winged gull, circling before its faint shimmer brightens and resolves into the angelic mage of the city, one Grigori by the name of Cephas. Hovering somewhat above the ground, the mage conjures elemental water into a glass and orders a teabag. Garviel makes that odd sighing sound again, "You got shot, miss, or something, you /died/, we all did. I rrememberr my...wait," he turns to look at Arturius "Jeff...Rryan?" he blinks, and quite honestly the wolf looks spooked as he sits back down, eyes wide as he looks at the human, not really seeming to register anything else, "Took you a while to show up herre, sirr," he says, still sounding quite spooked.


 * Mizuki ahs. "I and my friends had finally gotten to the bottom of why so many people of my world were sucked into a computer game's world. They guy responsible summoned this huge monster... I used an unidentified item in hopes it'd be something helpful, but all it did was turn me into a catgirl before it killed me. But instead of the usual respawn at the last town, I ended up here..."

The demon, leaning lightly on Phoenix's shoulders, chuckles. "I'm a craftsman. Charity is one thing, giving things away altogether to those who may not end up needing them, is an entirely different thing. But you can't say we didn't offer, in the spirit of the best of entrepreneurs." The demon, sitting down in the nearest chair, once more begins the slower process of taking off his armor manually and laying it by. He watches all present, especially Arturius and the gull-angel-thing, carefully (or attempts to), as he does so.

Ryan/Arthur shakes his head at Amanda, "Because I won't try to convince you. My lives have been dedicated to serving the Right." He throws a disparaging glance at the demons, "They talk pretty, but they're supposed to, evil couldn't seduce crap if it was all fire and brimstone." He offers a grin at Garviel, "I have to confess to being glad that life is done with, not one of my easiest." He looks down at his current body, "This one got the respect he deserved."

Phoenix nods to Amanda, "Short-term memory loss. 'S common, just after death. Your mind doesn't wanna accept what just happened. It's normal; even I went through that, right after I wound up in the afterlife." She leans into Raeft's touch, smiling at him. Cephas gets a finger-wiggle in greeting as he appears, "'Ey." She flips Ryan/Arturius the finger, "We don't force anyone t' do anythin'. Not one bloody thing."

Cephas raises an eyebrow. "That is because in Arturius' time, charging in with swords raised still counted as acceptable diplomacy," he notes. The bag of tea leaves is brought, and the angel conjures a small flame to the edges of his glass, warming it to brew his tea. "Staying a while, this time?" He looks over at the demons, then back to Arturius. "Still hanging out with rogues, regardless," he adds with a little smile.

Amanda narrows her eyes to Ix. "Would you /give/ it a rest? I'm /not/ dead. No one here is dead. I'm /not/ falling for it! Do you understand?" She's getting a bit... testy, at this moment. "And I know all 'bout how someone can be forced ta do somethin' without forcin' 'em. The Army teaches ya that. So you won't pull any tricks." She looks to the two 'good' winged ones. "None of you will pull /any/ tricks. I would have remembered... I would have /rememered/ gettin' shot..." There's not much more she can say, so she simply throws up her hands. "All right. So maybe this isn't drugs. It isn't death, but it isn't fake. I need supplies. Where's that fuckin' contract?"

Raeft steps forward a little, smile on his face. "Well... I can take care of it. What is it you'll be needin, miss? And what can you pay?" The demon is all smiles, but he waves Ix back a bit, including her contract. "And a contract isn't strictly necessary, a good, solid handshake can do... My name is Raeft, as said. I'll make anything you like to order, be it weaponry, armor, if you need a good meal I can buy it for you, though I'm not a chef. Name your supplies and we'll draw a repayment plan." He licks his lips. They might be chapped, he might be hungry, who knows? But there is a certain eagerness as one arm rests across Phoenix's shoulders.

Garviel looks a little more controlled, but still on the spooked side of things, "It's good to see you again, sirr," he says, nodding to Arturius. He blinks a little, and then shakes his head. He looks to Amanda, "Don't sell yourr soul miss, the harrdwarre storre acrross the strreet can sell you just about everrything these two can sell you, and without any strrings attached." He blinks at the sound of Cephas' voice, tail flicking a bit as he notices him, "Oh, hello therre," he notes.

"Warriors of light of the old style don't really make good PR," concedes Arturius. He gives Phoenix a disparaging look before nodding to Garviel, "And it's good to see you too." And a broad grin at Cephas, "You never will understand me though, at least certain aspects of you will never quite understand certain aspects of me, that's why we're probably both sent down. I couldn't and wouldn't do your job, you haven't the ability to do mine." The attention however is mainly focussed on Amanda, "Miss, you're dead." He offers his sword, "But only your physical form, you can take my life now and in fact I urge you to do so." He grins, "It fucking hurts, but if it'll prove my point." The hilt is offered, the point is aimed at his own chest. "I have lived many lives below, and as many here, I am Ares, God of War, Arthur Paendragon the Bear, defender of Briton, Dux Bellorus, Drake Miller, Soldier in the Vanguard and Jeffrey Alexander Ryan, Founder of the Watchers... I serve the Light by Walking in the Dark." He glances towards Cephas, "Something you never understood." The nods towards the point, "Below I can die, here... take it and test me. If you don't, I'll take your own head."

Phoenix mutter-grumbles at Raeft, but sighs. She notes to him in a murmured aside, "If you get it in writing, though, it's all solid. She can't try an' weasel out of it later." She peers at Arturius, giving him roughly the same look in return, "...I can neuter you, you do realize? It'll be a bit of a pinch t' get all those names on the jar, but it's doable."

"Food. Ammunition. A firearm. Body Armor..." She eyes the weapons carried by most of the people here. "Impact resistant. Ceramics, not old Kevlar. And disposable funds. If you want ta be delusional enough ta take my 'soul', take it for collateral. The dead don't walk. They rot in th' ground. Wormfood." She says, almost extending her hand... before Arturius speaks.

She eyes him warily, and shifts her feet into a combat stance. "I won't be tricked int' murder, an' I swear t' whatever God's left, I'll take ya out if ya try /anything/. I've only got one name. Warrant Officer 2 Amanda Wheatly, Royal Regiment a' Fuilisers. If ya think you're British, you address me as Sergeant-Major. Or /Ma'am./"

She looks over to Phoenix. Her earlier confusion has been replaced with an almost calm, easy, deadly demeanor. "I know contracts. Ya want ta challenge me, fine. I'll show ya why British Airways almost kept me."


 * "Warriors of light? Like in Final Fantasy?" asks the catgirl. "That'd be pretty good... actually, I was one of a group of four trying to fix my world, myself..." She looks to Amanda. "I... I really hope this is a dream. I don't want to be stuck like this, and I've got a world to fix. But it seems to be out of my hands now... I try not to think about--" she blinks. "Gah, no! Don't give him your soul, even as a joke! I don't know how things work here, but that's a very bad idea! _you_ might be your soul, for one thing! As in that body, right there!" She points at Amanda. "Look, I know it's hard to believe, I'm not sure I really believe it completely, but... I'm an atheist myself but y'know, we could have been wrong? It's not as if the existance of an afterlife was ever conclusively disproven..."

Cephas smiles. "Be fair, Arturius," he says, taloned fingertips gently removing the teabag from his drink. "I couldn't do your job, you couldn't do mine, but both were necessary. And both were seen to." He samples his tea, nods in approval. "Quite acceptable. And I am here...perhaps because I found you a bit too fascinating to leave alone. *You* are here because you can't leave the *mortal realm* alone." He grins. "If I had transgressed as badly as you, I'd be wearing black wings, not white. Meddling to your extent is a human privelege." If he's paying any attention to the ranting woman, he gives no sign.

Until he does. Rising to his feet - which do not, by the way, touch the ground - the angel spreads quite an impressive wingspan and lets that internal radiance fill the tavern. "My dear girl. Do you *really* think angels eat at British pubs?" He waves a hand at Arturius. "British, very well. There is your King; you would call him Arthur, I believe. Filed under 'once and future'." He grins. "I can do quite a good 'divine wrath' if you need the thunderbolts. Please don't; I like this pub. Very good tea."

Garviel nods a little, offering that sighing sound again, "I trried," he says simply to Amanda. He stands, slinging his battleaxe over his back before he turns to Arturius, offering him a military salute, as best a wolf can do so, "Hope to see you again, sirr," and with that, he turns on and walks out, tail definitely wagging.