When in Fire, One Burns [Closed RP]

The night grew still, and the streets grew quiet, a few lingering souls drew like moths to the flame that was a hidden oasis. Under a blanket of stars, as dim street lights barely lit the small lanes, and especially not the dark alleyways that lined the many shacks and structures around them. Heated with the hugging moisture of hot humidity, the breeze whistled through palm trees and green banana palms. Holding the few bits of life in the small region of closed shops and storefronts, the back lane lied prepared for his arrival. As the smell of brimstone and sage flowed in from the south, a windy breeze followed the lengthy silhouette of the bushy haired lad. With his long sleeved shirt unbuttoned and his black pants tightened to his heated skin, the dark Chelsea boots clacked and tapped on the stone ground of the alley. Up to the mouth of the alley, the figure stopped at the sight of a single candle. Red and black, the lit candle burned from a mundane stoop to the side.

Smelling like pepper seed and palm oil, that caused the flame to spark and dance in an attentive way, Xango knew he was at the right way. Stepping around the building, he made his way into the bar. Seeing numerous people, mostly of shady appearances, the good samaradents had mostly gone home by this point. Leaving only those who weren’t scared of a bump in the night. Enclosed in a bar room of old wood, lit by warm candles and dim lamps, as laughter filled the room. Some gambled with poker and lairs’ dice, others mingled and wooted at nightly women, and the joyed danced to the bouncing music of the tropics, and the heavied drank their pains away.

Xango stopped and took in the scent of roast peanuts. Pulling him to the bar, he saw a small wooden bowl of freshly roasted nuts and an opened bottle of rum. Leaning into the table, he grabbed a handful and began tossing them into his heated mouth. “...mucha’ gracia, mi chére.”, Xango looked over to the lady who left the offering for him. Dressed in the outfit of the help, the mid-twenties Latina baring her black hair in a humble braid and curtaining bangs that hung over her olive face, and her coat in her lap. Ready to head home for the day, she looked up to the spirit that was only folklore within her mind before this day. With widened eyes, she saw the numerous coloured beads and rosaries of reds, purples, blacks, whites, around his neck. “...eres él, ¿no?”, she muttered in a gasp at the figure she heard about as a child. Son of the fire and headhunter for death, she immediately got goosebumps. Too heated by the warmth radiating from his presence to feel cold in her state of shock, she placed her hand on her the rosary of her Lord and savior for reassurance. Getting a nod in reply, “Si, di one yuh ‘buela fi told yuh was...Mi fi be him”, Xango smiled and took a swig of liquor. “Now, gracia’ tanto pa’ ayudame, ese noche. Tell yuh ‘buela mi say gracia’ for never closin’ her ear pon we...”, he tipped his head and bidded her a goodbye with a gentlemanly kiss to her hand.

As she removed herself from her seat and made her way out of the bar, Xango turned around to lean back into the bar and graze over the room with his eyes. Holding the bottle of rum, he downed more of the strong drink, as he waited for his target to arrive.

@ren06:

d^_^b

Ren’s eyes darted across the little table in the corner of the room, eyeing his opponent, holding his cards close to him nervously with a poker face a three-year-old could realize is bluster. A two and a seven, by far the worst hand possible, but Ren never one to shy away from terrible decisions gave a false grin and pushed his recent earnings forwards "All in."

Sara shot a glare at him from the table over mouthing the words we need that money. Ren waved a hand at her brushing her off as soon as she got his attention, determined to go through with the hand and hoping for his opponent to fold he ignored her.

"You sure bout that kid," spoke the large, balding veteran as he raised an eyebrow at the decision.

"As sure as I'll ever be Kai" Ren retorted with an air of obvious fake confidence. As soon as Ren said that Kai called his bluff and just as soon the smile on Ren's face disappeared.

Kai threw his hand on the table enthusiastically "Ace pair," smiling as he saw Ren put his hand on the table in a manner of disappointment rivaling someone who viewed their food getting stuck in a vending machine. "Hey kid, when I win I'm buying you a drink least I could do for you bringin all this cash right to me."

Sara walked over to the table to survey the cards and looked at Ren like she was about to stab him "Well let's turn over the cards," her voice trying to mask the anger behind every word. Everyone around the table eagerly watched as Kai turned over each of the three cards left to get turned over, first a king then a seven.

"C'mon gimme another seven or a two baby," he said, mustering every ounce of hope he had left in his voice. Kai, Sara, and Ren all leaned over the table as the last card got turned over every moment a minute.

"You idiot" Sara shouted at the top of her lungs when the last card turned over to be another ace. "Now where are we going to sleep, we haven't even gotten food yet," her face got more and more red as she spoke every word sounding angrier than the last.

Kai chimed in from across the table "Whoa whoa let's calm down, here's a bit of money for food alright now let's not kill the guy ok."

Ren grabbed the cash and attempted to turn around to go to the bar but got yanked backward but a moment after.

"Don't be rude, say thank you to him."

Ren released a long sigh before rushing out the words "Thank you, bye"

Ren walked over to the bar and got Ricks attention "Hey Rick can I get whatever the special is today"

"You got it bud takes a minute to make though why don't you sit over at the bar here's a drink on the house"

Ren smiled as Rick slid a bottle of soda down to him since he is not affected by alcohol "Thanks, friend."

Sara walked up behind him and ordered what she wanted not that Ren was paying attention he noticed an unfamiliar face walk through the door. The man was almost exactly like Ren in terms of his height and musculature and had a dark afro filled with curls. "Hey, Sara I'm gonna go meet someone."

She turned to look at Ren "Who?"

"That guy over there talking to Emilia," he gestured towards the person talking to a serving lady.

"I dunno I haven't seen him before seems suspicious" Sara eyed him up and down.

You should be fine by yourself over here gimme a few." Ren stood up and walked over to the dark-skinned man who sat down at the bar.

"Hey you seem new around here you a mercenary," greeted Ren before giving a little half-hearted wave with one hand.

@superstay

@ren06:

Tipping his wave goodbye to the youthful looking brunette, the Caribbean lad leaned against the brown wood bartop, staring at the exiting woman. With twinkling eyes of hazel, he licked his lips, as he thought to the flavour of his Cuban cigar. Patting the surface of his long-sleeve baroque print shirt, he grew surprised in the absence of his Cubans. Fiddling around with his pants pocket, lifting his hanging shirt, the huge handle of his gun could be seen stuffed in his fitted pants. Along with his sheathed Bowie and his bandolier, “Coño, donde esta?”, he dug in his pockets. Almost desperately, before remembering he placed it behind his eye, Xango signed in relief before pulling it down.

Smiling childishly, he almost didn’t hear the words of the approaching gentleman. Generating a larger smile across his warmly browned face, the bushy haired lad placed his cigar within his lips.“Oye Papi...How’a yuh?”, he smirked at the young man. Hearing a voice within his head, faint and echoing in the abyss of his centered mind, it spoke in Haitian Croele. Alerting him that the man was his target, Xango continued smirking, as he lifted his now free hand over his cigar tip. Covering it, while shielding it from the humid air around them, he hid his second hand, using his fingers to spark a flame and ignite his stick of fine tobacco. Causing a glow to illuminate his face, he shielded the absence of a match from the sight of the mortals around him.

Taking a few thick puffs of the cigar, Xango looked at the man, shaking his fingers, as if a match was actually there to shake out.“...No no, mi acere, mi be but a man ah sentiment.”, he waved off the notion of him being a mercenary. Speaking in his fairly deep voice and broken West Indian tongue,“Mi work outta di love anna appreciation of mi employer, seen?”, he licked his lips again, thinking to his saintly guilds.“Dio’ mio, mi feel fah di whole a yuh lot. Livin’ fi money anna material gain. All be but blinded by di Babylonian system dem...”, he observed the room of mercenaries with pity for the materialistic need of the mortal living. A bunch of blokes living and dying for the gain of money. He wondered of their stories, and how many of them truly pondered their lives...perhaps he was being too doubtful in them. For all he knew, they could be evaluating their existence right here. Xango took in a deep drag of his smoke, savouring the deep flavour of fertile crops, as he refocused his mind away from the conflict within his head. Blowing out a thick cloud of smoke, smelling abnormally like sage and palo santo wood more than tobacco.

Taking a sip of the spiced rum that was given to him, feeling it slide down his throat and burn the pit of his stomach, his eyes slowly began to gaze over at the many tempting beauties within the room. Loosening up and feeling hot, the bushy haired lad heard the voices again. In a tone that felt like a slap to the back of his head, in a nonchalant instance, Xango returned his eyes to the lad, observing the man’s appearance.“...do mi know yuh, ‘cere?”, he wondered what would cause the boy to wander over to him.

d^_^b