Topic of Play and Additional Fuckery

Open world where it all goes down, and sideways, and every which way.

Lyra was dressed to slay, in a dress that would make her alluring to any attracted to women... but her frosty golden-eyed stare deterred all but the most brave and the most stupid. The party tonight was a massive gathering of the Seelie Court, just as dusk was falling on the summer solstice. The venue was at the veil between the mortal world and the fae, and many eclectic beings had been invited. Lyra herself had come alone, despite the invite saying she could bring a plus one. She didn't need anyone, and quite frankly, it was a bit surprising she came at all.

---

Ningyo, not surprisingly, had found where the booze was, and indulged. Being a Morningstar Prince, it was obvious his invite had been out of curtesy, but that wouldn't stop him from seeing just how limitless the booze was. Knowing his reputation drunk, there were a few who wanted to potentially try and cut Ningyo off, but his reputation sober made them think twice and let him be, hoping someone else would have equal amounts of balls and death wishes to try and get between that man and his liquor.

---

The Unseelie King watched from the shadows, angry as ever at Erlking. The Seelie threw parties like this in lavish excess in the warmth and plenty, while the Unseelie lands were plunged in a perpetual, starving winter. Disguised as a raven, Kiam hoped the Seelie King wouldn't sense his presence and Kiam could crash the party and spread fear, if even for a short time.

---

Zo stayed near the edge of the crowd. Most people were avoiding him, which was normal. Zo was a naga; serpent from the waist down, and that was typically enough for people to steer clear of him most of the time. Zo was fine with it; he preferred to watch people anyway. He wasn't really a people person, and this allowed him to watch and find out who he wished to support in inevitable fueds.

---

Barastar, unlike everyone else there, did not have an invite. In fact, if the Mad Russian had his way, one person here would be "uninvited" from their mortal coil. Barastar moved like water through the crowd as he worked to identify his target. once in sight, the killer merely watched and waited for his opportunity to strike.

Sequestered in the depths of the untampered wilderness, some lonely corner of the world so easy to find it was difficult all at once, was a abandoned palace that stood a confusion between enchantment and grim; towering, crumpled walls construct to keep the foreign stare clear, yet a methodical attention to detail in every marble column, a master's hand in the craftsmanship of nary every window be it stained or leaded glass, not so much as a single stone falling short of sheer excellence in design.
However just the same, it seemed man had no dominion on these lands━ivy laced through each link in the portcullis, flowers grew abundant and bloomed with no regard if it were their native habitat nor seasons, the sheer monstrous size of the mighty oak trees imposing enough to rival the towers.
A picturesque scene that might of easily been sung free of the pages of a fairytale, the ruins at the veil between worlds had been transformed to a symbol of summertime and everlasting bounty; a stark contribution to the frigid and decrepit Unseelie lands, to which they had━as far as many were concerned━long since abandoned, turned a blind eye to the suffering of the other fey in the wake of their own prosperity.

The air this night were filled with voices and laughter and merry music; lyres and flue, drums and horns, the heady aroma of exorbitant wine and delicacy in the wind and left the taste of it to lips and skin, eyes all around wide with a world of paradisiac joy and ecstasy. The new faces now brushing shoulders to the eclectic members of the Seelie court, those unfamiliar with this realm might have a pang of worry at the chance this were all a product of hallucinogen; where to begin? where to look? could this be real or fantasy?
Heads spilling with the intoxication of the very scent of this impossibly earth and the blissful lilt of gifted harpists, and then they might smile, grin and laugh, and join in, and remain none-the-wiser that the very angelic smiles and unearthly beauties they held in arm were the same malignant monsters mothers warned children of in their bedtime stories.

Sometimes things were small and inconsequential as it began, sometimes they were large; for how could one predict the fey who hadn't even an inkling of what mischiefs would become of the night? Perhaps, in a sense, there were a single faucet in which to gleam onto the schemes of the Seelie fey, despite their changeability... the mind of the fey at the heart of the court, renown for his wicked ways and wickeder yet, fixation on a certain soul; moth to the cold burning flame of the Unseelie King.
And likewise the fey strewn about the ballroom were moths themselves, civilian causalities caught in the crossfire as they mistook the searing ardor in the Erlking's gilded stare as the flame to which encircle.

Naturally the hosts stood at the centre, the illustrious Queen Mab and the Erlking, perhaps of the eldest immortals in attendance. As they have similarities, they also are polar opposites to each other. Glimmering silver, Queen Mab is loved by the moon so of course its pale fingers would shine through her. The glamor cast blanketed the true form she carried, this night the color of her irises shone a brilliant blue, pupiless eyes edged in ivory kohl to accentuate the almond shape. The stardust gossamer gown she wore disguised naught of the pleasing quality of her figure, a slit relevant of flawless skin.  
And then there is the Erlking. The wyld fey, golden tresses as brilliant as the sun itself, with equally golden optics, a smile that were infectious and crowned by not a circlet of gold but rather an expanse of antlers in complementary echo to the artistic twists and turns of the forest branches. His loose shirt sagged from his shoulders, gentle moon rays brushing their warm fingers over the patchwork to inspire a night's skin, a pale scar crept over the edge of his breast as if his very own beating heart had been torn free.
Which, in a sense, it had.

Queen Mab stands beside the Erlking, a telltale pucker of displeasure curling at her kissable doll-like lips. There is an air of indignation about her this day, and given the rueful eyes she spares her supposed husband its no difficulty to ascertain its source.
"This is a bit much, even for you," the Queen sighed, fiddling with the garnet ring about her finger in a bout of overwrought nerves.
The look the Erlking greets her with is nothing short of lascivious delight. "Isn't it?" he answered, a dream cadence to his seraphic voice, star-spun hues raised away as if on ever spread wings. The monarch at his side wonders if he noticed the way his eyes took on a hypnotic look and revealed, in precise, what or more accurate who filled his thoughts, if he felt the way a slight tremble followed such musings likewise to the euphonic breath of a lover amid blessed release.
If it were not for the many eyes that flit to and fro the couple, Mab might of bristled as her husband grew moony-eyed and drowned in desire for a Unseelie fey that made no subtle implication that he'd much sooner brandish a raised blade towards the Erlking than his cock.
A breath taken, then released, Mab manages to retain her own misgivings on the situation. "M'lord, he is... he is simply not worth the effort," she began, a quake to her voice, already expectant of the his swift ire at the slight spoken of the Unseelie. She saw no choice and hoped that she might reach him, grasp at what remained of his rationality. A ​reason lost, so often, in all matters concerning King Kiam.
When no harsh hand fell upon her, his head turnt away as if he couldn't bear the sight of her, she ​took a breath and dared further, "Perhaps... one day, you may find yourself faced with... w-with a man...or woman...worthy of your.. um, unbridled attachment." The smile she offered were forced, a shake to her hand as she reached to rest it lightly against his shoulder.

No response came, but perhaps that were...progress?
Just as a fretful crease formed at her brow, the man at last seemingly came to himself; a slight dilation of pupils, sudden warmth sparking in his sunburst stare, growing with intensity every minute.  Puzzled to the source of his enthrallment, Mab turned to follow where his eyes weighed, a sharp hiss as she at last ascertained the reasoning.
Though contained beneath the guise of mere raven, she would recognize that stare anywhere. Those molten glacier hues which seemed to darken even the inky night itself, and the ebony curtain of billowing feathers that cascade around his avian form. The Unseelie king held the likeness of the ghastly raven, wings outstretched amid a frenzied battlefield, talons extended and ready for the taking...
It's evident, then, that the Erlking had neglected to pay her so much as a single speck of his attentions, enraptured as he were in the sensual imaginations and a series of promiscuous idealizations the likes of which should she discover she would surely grow ill.
Though, the Erlking's nose gives a slight wrinkle as he notes, at last, her hand on him and skirts free of her touch with a look like she were a pile of horse droppings underfoot.

The king did not wait for the path to clear, he did not move for others they were to move for him, dancers expertly twirling opposite as if paving his course through the grounds as he ventured to the edge where his heart laid.
"Hmph, fashionably late... how droll. You know I do not like to be left waiting, my pet," the Erlking purred, a teasing edge as his gaze slid over the longtime rival of his court and scion of the winter fey. "I should think this form suits you quite well, my my... what a pretty picture you'd make in a gilded cage." Gold eyes burned, encapsulated in flames before the very man who had inspired such searing ardors. "Ah, I do not suppose you will spare me our usual game of cat and raven and simply take perch upon me like a good pet?" The unearthly figure's head cocks, antlers casting a shadow across the other's features.


The whistling winds tore at the raven tresses, a soft caress as fingers drew the entangled strands clear of the cloaked individual's face. The figure reflected on the irony of bundling up tightly on this particular venture, considering the reality that it were the lands of the neither mortal nor fey in which he lingered; a veil in which a glamor of eternal summertime were cast, the air rich in mirth, magic and delight. Though he supposed he were merely obeying a primal urge to guard himself away, prying eyes and whatnot, an unwanted obtrusion.
His most primal urge, however, it seemed had not failed him.
Poised on the edges of the celebrations, the mercenary drank in the cool night air, hawk-like stare peering down the perimeter of the halls that yawned invitingly on either side, each exit and entry point of note acknowledged. A flicker of irritation were neatly schooled behind a mask of indifference, lips quirked down serving as only indicator of how enthused he were to be here.

There appeared no sign of his current objection, thus he took a moment to review precisely what had brought him. The willful mercenary had braved many risks in his life, lethal endeavors undertaken merely for the sake of the thrill of it; a wild soul such as his lured by a siren song not his own to throw caution to the wind in a series of lifestyle choices that could be best described as fucked around and found out.
It had begun, of course, when he had received a tax he couldn't be bothered to pay... a sum of coin that could of crippled even his family, in their trade of silver-smithy. Perhaps, he should of made efforts to try and barter with Atlantis' own king... then again, it had been significantly more satisfying to rid the man shoulders the burden of that oversized, egotistically head of his.
The following events were very much the aftermath of his too smart lip and unchecked temper; the best forms of therapy were hands on, anyway. Bloodied his had felt a catharsis after a lifetime of having not even the slightest inch of control over his own decisions, afflicted with the unwanted curse of being a siren required to sustain itself off the devouring of humans and human like creatures.

The flora danced in the summer air, a jubilant fiesta of vibrant hues. The soft scent of honeysuckle and lilac was a welcome relief from the salty tang of the open sea air, not so much as a single barnacle or slimy bit of seaweed in sight. Even if he didn't exactly enjoy the presence of these bothersome fey, he could easily say that this wasn't the worst assignment he'd undertaken. The invitation weren't even difficult to swipe, some drunken lord had chosen the wrong tree in which to piss upon and found himself on the wrong end of Ronan's talons. The guards were keen, and it would be wise to remain cautious given the stories told of the fey━with a beauty that misled and moved at speeds and grace no mortal sight could comprehend━however, he would admit privately that he did not feel at the least intimidating by the swarm of glittery faery fucks.
Then as he began to lean forward... wait, there.
The sudden movement almost startled Ronan into executing his jump prematurely, but he turned around just in time to find his sights set on a figure that walked with the same unnatural soft-step he could recognize as a similarly trained hired hand. There's a blurry recognition somewhere in the back of his mind...aware as he is, of the locale and other men that frequent this trade of murder and mayhem. He detects a hint of familiarly, not in face but name of this figure... there were whispers of a man who had never missed a mark. Not a persons he might of met before, no, but that such words had reached even in the far off undersea world spoke of the other's talents.
Well, it'd be rude not to say hello, right?

A lofty smile quirked at his lips as he carefully crept along the railing, down the stone stairway towards where the other had taken up perch. Obvious as to why, as well given the complete vantage point this little corner of the area permit. "Someone must really want this bastard dead, to hire two guns," said the siren, whose voice sounded like the tranquil meandering of a brood. He approached Barastar at his own pace, truly unconcerned about the danger at his side as he leaned against the bannister. If Barastar wanted him to be dead, well, he'd never had a chance to get this close.
Reaching in to his jacket pocket to retrieve his cigarettes, red eyes slid back to the target in question. "Look, the way I see it- " The siren paused then, cigarette held between his lips, seemingly considering something. Silently, he held the case out towards the other in offer, a shrug once the other made up his mind, the case to his pocket afterwards. "-what matters is they die. Truly I haven't the slightest fuck to give on the who by or what method utilized." The second part of the payment wouldn't go through if it wasn't his hand to make the kill, no. The loss would be detriment to both his own dwindling funds and reputation, yeah, but he'd enough sense not to argue with a trained killer on the matter.
"So yeah, I'm here for a job. Nothing personal, all that," he murmured, voice muffled as he held the cigarette still and drew a lit match to its end.  "I'll not step on toes, no time to waste measuring dicks and blather on body counts, or that shit." The rush that seeped in the cloying smoke settled the slight tremor of his hands; hunger grappling at the pits of his stomach, a searing need to find something, preferably of the human variety, to satisfy a siren's bloodlust.
Fuck, he hated this.
"I play fair, you were here first so kill's yours but," he shrugged his shoulders, absently rolling, slight wince at the stiffness where his wings had been sealed away. "Figure I've a couple hours to kill, if you need a distraction or sentry, all yours." The siren's verdant stare glowed like green flames at the heart of a sacred polar cavern. Olive complexation seemed to suggest orient in the Mediterranean paradise, a certain aesthetic pleasing quality about his features. A pale luster emanating from the ethereal mer, rendering him in a enchanting cast.
"Not that you need the help, mister big shot." He gave him a teasing little smirk, without showing his teeth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Judas was following his sister, Judith, around the ball room.  The way he followed her, it was almost impossible to tell if he was following her out of loyalty or because he might be a little too obsessed with his twin.  Either way though, how he followed her made some people think he was super sweet for caring so much about her... while others were disgusted and suggested they might one day practice incest.  Judas had gotten rather good at ignoring the rumors, though, only caring for the fact that he was at a party with Judith.

Judith looked rather regal, as if she would ever look any differently when she knew that anyone other than her family and servants would see her.  It was rumored that she could be so sick that it would be questionable if she would survive, yet still look regal as ever.  She was wearing a purple dress to match her brother's purple suit, or rather, he wore a suit to match her dress.  It was deep and dark purple, made out of such gentle and light silk that with every step she took, it would catch the light with a sparkle, demanding eyes be cast in her direction, even if only for a brief moment.  Her silver hair as wrapped up tightly in a braided bun, with the braids that fed into the bun gliding along the sides of her head in neat, tight dutch braids.  She didn't ask for attention, but rather, demanded it, and never verbally.  She only ever used her looks to command the attention she always wanted, rather that attention be strictly for compliments or perhaps to string some poor boy along before dumping his ass and leaving him to rot in the pits of his sorrows.  Regardless, she continued to glide along with a gentle grace that showed just how high of royalty she came from.
Her walk didn't help any with the questions of whether or not her and her brother might perhaps be testing the waters for an incestual affair, as the way her right hand moved almost seemed to be like she was tugging some sort of chain that no one could see or feel, a chain connect to her brother who was walking closely behind her, slightly to the right.  She, actually, rather loved the rumors that spread.  It was almost as if they fed her, made her seem even more confident than she already was.  Oh yes, if there was one thing that Judith was not, it was shy and uncertain.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lola was walking through the party, wondering what to do as it seemed the reportedly limitless alcohol was currently being hogged by someone else.
However, she stopped as she spied the one that was drinking all the alcohol and marched right over to him, fists balled in irritation.

Judith stopped when she spotted a woman marching over to Ningyo and smirked.  "Looks like our dear little brother might just get lucky tonight."  She chuckled.  Of course, when talking about Ningyo, the term lucky could mean anything from he's getting laid to he's going to get to fight.

When Lola reached Ningyo, without even so much as a millisecond of hesitation, she grabbed the drink in his hand and chugged it down before he could and then glared at him.  "Alright buddy, now you listen up.  I don't know who you are, and I don't really care.  What I do care about, though, is the fact that you are hogging ALL of the booze and well... some of us would rather be drunk if we're gonna be here.  So you can fucking chill out and learn how to share.  Or do you need to go back to pre-school?  I've raised 200 little brothers and sisters, I can damn well teach you some fucking manners and what the term sharing means."  She growled.

---

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Billy was casually meandering through the party.  What he was going to do there, he didn't know.  He just knew that he'd been invited, though he did find that rather shocking given that his parents had disowned him after he came out to them.  However, given that they were dead and he was their only child, that did mean he was the only one with the Brindle name anymore, so he supposed he could understand why he had been invited with that being the case.  He didn't so much mind parties, it was just that he didn't seem to know anyone there, and that always made him uncomfortable.  He honestly would rather be part of the orchestra than a guest.

Delta- Born Fallen Angel- Female
Tagging: Open

Delta stood by the lavish stairs of the court,  watching those gossip,  laugh and drink away their thoughts and worries.  Although sensing the sinful and outright cruel thoughts of others.  She smirked,  her short blonde hair giving away that spark inside of her that begged to be mischievous but she promised herself to be on her best behavior.  Her black dress flowing down,  lining the contours of her body,  her black wings shadowing herself as if watching her own back.  She raised her brow as she looked up at Erlking, trying to follow his gaze and understand his expression, not knowing what she was about to witness with a smile.  

Ramses- Angel- Male
Tagging: Open

Rameses stood in the corner drinking water,  peering over his glass with a judgemental look about him as he observed everyone in silence, his mind focus and body tense as usual.  His finger tapping the glass as he impatiently waited for something worth coming for to start. Honestly he had no idea why he even came to these things,  parties and such since well... he felt out of place because of his position in the heavens.  Trying to be a do gooder for those that seemed to not really deserve it.  He sighed, his muscular chest having,  and his midnight blue tunic ever so slightly moving with him.  At the moment,  this angels wings were encompassed in his body and the only thing giving him away was the tattoo of four angel wings on his back that glowed a dark navy blue. His way of sensing sinful spirits,  demons or actions which apparently and annoyingly were everywhere.  

Longwang- Dragon Shifter- Male
Tagging: Zo

Longwang had just arrived at the party,  wearing a professional and fabulous suit that was all black,  white undershirt,  and a golden tie with golden trim along his suit.  The man was dashing and as many girls that came to him and swooned, he ignored them as if their Flashiness was a bore to him. Keeping his beastly side a neat secret that not many knew of,  he was an expert at staying calm,  cool, and collected.  Almost in a mysterious manner that was sometimes mistaken as arrogance. He looked over as he saw something out of place lurking in the shadows, seeing a coiled up reptilian tail. This catching his curiosity as his eyes followed such scales to see that of the fact of a beautiful yet handsome man.  Longwang smirked as a desire rose in him to possibly speak to this stranger that actually made it worth while coming, something... someone interesting.  He himself slowly making his way through the crowd to grab a drink and again slowly to make it towards the scaled stranger.  

Arianna- Fire Nymph- Female
Tagging: Open

Arianna literally walked through the doors and into the party, the doors bursting open as she made her semi dramatic entrance.  Her energy blazing for the attention of others to notice her walking in.  Her red dress sleeked down her body and moved gracefully with her and with every step,  the slits down the sides of her legs revealing the softness and yet strong legs she walked forward with confidence with as her coal black heels clacked on the floor. Just enough sparkle in her dress to gain the glance for a slight distraction of attraction. Arianna walked with a purpose, a fiery personality about her as she swept everyone with a gaze,  almost as if she were looking for someone with intense green eyes.  

Naserus- Incubus- Male
Rhea- Insubus (Incubus/ succubus hybrid)- Shemale

Tagging: Open

Naserus and Rhea stood at the bar together as they drank, Rhea indeed noticing the unmistakable fire nymph.  She looked over at Naserus, "aren't fire nymphs suppose to be like you know.. on fire." Naserus looked down at Rhea and chuckled, "only if you piss them off,  and even then if that kind of temper comes out so does some literal horns.  A she devil if you will." Naserus shook his head, "but you know the funny thing is... you're a demon of sex and yet she pretty much has you beat on fuckable looks." The Incubus smirked,  leaning back on the wall,  shirtless to express how carefree he was yet with black pants and black overall like straps going up his waist and over his shoulders.  Rhea shot him a glare with her dark golden brown eyes, "excuse me but you couldn't speak much for yourself." Naserus wrinkled his nose as he teased, "I'm not here to impress... I'm just here to see what's going to happen.  There's usually some kind of action at these parties...I remember a while back when at one point it became a huge orgy. That was a freaky night." Rhea sighed, "yeah well... it's not like she's going to get that much attention anyways.  Besides, what kind of power would she even have here?" She rolled her eyes,  her golden blonde hair draping down her white dress with a golden belt. Her style totally hiding the fact that she was a demon of sex,  dressing as if she were more innocent and looking for something else. Admitting her own jealousy of the fire nymph.

Lyra sipped slowly on her drink and sighed. there were a few interesting people about, sure, but none she felt obligated to walk over and talk to. She was here merely to observe, and that it was a dangerous thing to deny or refuse an invitation from a fae. Lyra couldn't have cared less being there, and so she stuck near the edges of the crowds and watched for now.

---

Zo sighed and continued to people watch. He paid little mind to the melodramatic fire nymph that walked in. their kind tended to burn hot and fast, and get burned out just as quickly. Paired with how young that one looked, that seemed a little typical. Sex demons he spotted chatting off near one of the bars, about what he didn't really want to know. Zo's gaze flitted as a man approached in a sharp looking suit. The naga paused with his glass almost to his lips as he watched Longwang, his mind needing a moment to process. Damn.... he's gorgeous! Zo thought. Finally his brain caught back up, and the snake decided to try and remain cool and calm. He sipped his drink and casually looked over at a suddenly very interesting tree. His tail coiled a little as Longwang got closer. Just be cool and act natural, Zo... he's probably just coming over to get a drink from the table anyway...

---

Ningyo was happy to just stand there, undisturbed, and drink his booze. In reality, it was probably best to leave Ningyo alone. However, Lola came over, and with Lola coming over, also came a new focus for his attention. He stood, whiskey dripping from his face as he squared up to Lola. Ningyo growled a bit, the rage clearly seen in his eyes. Those watching would see his never actually touched Lola, but his fingers twitched and suddenly Lola was flipped up and then slammed down into a table hard enough it broke. Ningyo grabbed a full keg. "How's this for sharing, cunt-cake?!" Ningyo barked, slamming the keg down on Lola's chest. The others gave Ningyo a wide berth, the few knowing about the prince recognizing he was in angry drunk stage.

---

Kiam had been content to stay on his perch and watch the fae and others move about, unnoticed by them all. A bird near a fae gathering was not exactly something worth paying mind to, especially when there was a lot more clearly interesting people about. However, as sure as weather changed from sun to hurricane, Kiam's own hurricane made it's way to the raven guised fae. Kiam's icy gaze fell on erlking as he approached, and if looks could slay, the Erlking would have been smote on the spot. Kiam's beak opened and out issued for a hiss more akin to a cat than a bird, feathers standing up in a bristle. Kiam loathed being called "pet", and loathed that this man's arrogance seemed to know no bounds. Kiam cawed and flew up, looking at first like he was about to land on Erlking's antler....

And then swerved up at the last possible moment away from him. Kiam cawed like a cakling laughter, and the warm summer night around Erlking turned icy cold, the fae's breath coming out in puffs. Deciding on adding insult to injury, Kiam transformed midair to his Unseelie form and landed next to Queen Mab, smiling with all the malice and wickedness of the worst devils. "A dance, madam!" He cackled and took Mab and spun her around before she could answer or protest, all in the name of pissing off his one rival.

---

Barastar raised an eyebrow as he was approached by.... a Greek twig? The hulking Russian man barely would have paid Ronan any mind, aside from the man literally coming up and talking to him. "And who's to say we have the same targets?" Barastar replied, his voice deep and deliciously accented. If it weren't for the predatory way he carried himself or the cold in his eyes, one might had called Barastar a lady killed. Instead, he was still a killer, just a very different breed. "The way I see it," he purred to Ronan, "I work alone, and unless you already have your obituary thought out, I would suggest not getting in my way..." He was close enough Ronan could almost feel Barastar's warmth and smell the dizzying scent of his cologne.... and then a crash as Ningyo put someone through a table distracted the hitman, and he moved over through the crowd to investigate.