Ben Fenn's Story

There were many a'men who looked meager that walked into the Grinning Ghoul, with its high columns in laden engravings of devils, angels, and people of the mortal realm alike. Columns which crawled into high ceilings and spiderwebbed to touch eachother so delicately. Columns, which if viewed one hundred yards away, you would think you could tip over with a thumb. It was sturdier than a colosseum, however, and stronger than a hundred thousand men. There were no spiderwebs in the high rafters of the ceilings of the Grinning Ghoul, only chandeliers which hung far down to cast light on what was comparatively small people.

There were tables as well, though they seemed longer and to the standard wasn't two chairs but four and they all lined neatly to the bar, which was a rich red wooden color, though the woman behind it had even richer redder lips. Each table had a technological interface, which flickered and hovered in bright blue.

So, when the doors opened, it didn't draw too much attention, because the extravagance wasn't present when one left, but when one entered, and it didn't take much for one Ben Fenn to feel very out of place when he entered.

It was almost a B-Line that the young man in an overcoat with boots up to his knees took, before he'd stopped and decided his time was better spent weaving through the columns in a darker more sideswept route. He'd sat down not long after, with a mortified salute covering his eyes, and ordered just the, "Most piss best drink you've got, because the way this place looks then, they've better be grand."

Delilah smiled. Her ice blue eyes seemed to almost glow in the barlight. "Welcome to the ghoul, darlng." She said as she turned to him, every movement smooth and seducing. She bit the corner of her lip with her fang as she sized up the newcomer, looking him up and down. "Oh, they are. I'll bring you something that will surely sate your... Thirst." She winked at him, turning around to make the drink.
It was no wonder the chalice that sat atop the bar for tips was full of all manner of coin and paper money, being deposited by the many travelers that sat at the bar. Among them was a massive, armored, boisterous man with olive skin and an orange mohawk.
"OI, Delilah" He shouted, slapping some coin on the counter. Several empty containers sat next to the man, along with a plate of food and some broken glass. "I'ave another, luv." She responded, though her voice couldn't be heard over the bar chatter, unlike the armored man. She dropped his order off before walking over to ben's seat, placing a crystal glass containing a dark liquor that had a slightly sweet aroma over the smell of strong alcohol. "Nah mate, I'll die of poisonin' just to watch that arse walk away each time." Said the armored man to another patron that sat nearby. He howled like an animal before tugging the cork off of the jug. Delilah smiled, and leaned over the bar at Ben, giving him quite the view of her chest. "It's a favorite around here, lemme know how you like it, handsome. And if you need... anything, let me know." The suggestive tone of her words would leave much to the imagination as she stood back up to return to her duties around the bar.

Ben looked down ever so slightly, attempting to make an inconspicuous attempt at glancing to two orbs of joyful sunshine. "Think it's my new favorite, too." he murmured, but then flashed surprise when he'd found she'd delivered a drink to him. "Fuckin' heady. You and the drink, love!" he cried, as she walked away.

With a grin one could play a symphony on, he looked around, shoulders shrinking a little when he'd seen the lot of the fellows that rounded the bar. Fingers gripped around the handle, Ben poured the house special directly into his esophagus before looking to the big orange-haired fellow.

"You're a lot of paddies of drunk fucks. Ale cheap here?" he chirped. "Must make yore money off the quantity and the pretty lady with ferries on her chest?"

Lukas slammed down his jug after a long drain, some of the liquid splashed out as he wiped his face on his forearm. After a loud belch he looked over at the man, chuckling. "Aye. T'booze is great, prices are even better, and..." He turned to eye Delilah as she bent down to grab a bottle from the cooler. "Well, y'got eyes." He took another swig from his bottle before continuing. It was becoming apparent he needed booze almost as much as he needed air to breathe. "It's the only place thats got shite that'll get me drunk too." Lukas banged on his armor, where his liver would be. "Thing's too strong. Everywhere else has shite that might as well be water. But Delilah here? She know's what I like, don't yeh, sweetness?" She blew a kiss his way, but was otherwise busy fulfilling orders. "Onna these days, gurlie. I'm gonna sling you over meh shoulder and run off into the night."

"Lady like that don't like any one of you fat smelly bastards. All for show. And a damn good show, too!" Ben hollered. "And the drinks ain't bad, I guess."

His eye turned to Lukas' tower of empty mugs, and the corner of his mouth grew in depth a little more. "Damn." he said. "Sure I could drink you under the table if your stomach weren't bigger than my body and your intestine won't leapt out and strangle me, but in a case of man to man then direct proportions ain't taken into consideration."

He took his own again, as if it were an urgent matter, and poured it directly down his tract. It became rather apparent that getting drunk was the goal, and he had experience doing so before. He'd let a thumbtack he'd been keeping on the edge of his mouth into the tip chalice, and looked again to Lukas.

"You'd consider injecting it. Can do that, y'know. Get straight to the point without the tongue rot."

Lukas let out a thunderous laugh, both at the idea that the man could drink more than him, and at the suggestion of injecting his booze.
"Sorreh lad, if yer worried about tongue rot and all that, I don't think you can hold yer own with me in a game of drink." He arm swept the stack of empty containers aside, sending them cascading onto another patron's area of the bar.
"Better men 'ave died tryin'. So 'ave at it, wot kind of proportions you want? 2, 3, 4, to one o'yer drinks?" The gauntlet had been laid down. Lukas was prepared to begin the drinking game despite the amount of alcohol he had already ingested. "I promise my innards won't leap out and attack ye. Hell, maybe it'll put put some hair on yer jibblies. Wot ye wanna wager?"

While he spoke, Delilah came to empty the overflowing tip jar. As she reached inside to begin taking out some bills when suddenly she recoiled, clutching her finger as a scarlet orb formed at the tip. she hissed, looking back into the jar as if to find something that would have bitten her. "Ow! What was that?!" she said, still clutching her finger.

"Maybe it's a love bite, for being so lovely." Ben said dumbly to Delilah. He just wanted a place to put his tack, not to make the poor girl bleed. He picked a napkin up and shook it at her, for her trouble. Then he turned to Lukas.

"We can wager the tab, I suppose. How y'do this usually? Since you're so versed. You don't usually just drink someone until they pass out, do you? You play a word game or something, like ice breakers with alcohol?"

Lukas gave the man an awkward look, raising a brow. "Are ye sure you wanna do this, lad?" he asked with a grin. "I've run up quite th'bill and I don't think yer ready fer this. 'Aven't ye had drinking contest b'fore? It's last man standin', mate. Give yer money to the lovely lady, and whoever wins get their money back." Lukas took another drink from his jug, not even pausing before the drinking game commenced.
Lukas tossed a card onto the table which was soon taken by Delilah after having nursed the prick on her finger. "3 to 1, luv." Lukas said to her with a devilish grin on his face. "Sounds good, right? Meh three t'yer one? Good thing I warmed up b'fore ye got here."

Soon afterwards, Delilah arrived with a tray, placing it in front of the Armored man. On it sat two drinks of pitch black liquor, strong and pungent. One drink was sized normally, the other came in a glass mug that held, as he requested, 3 times as much.

Lukas slid the chair out next to him and gestured in the chair's direction. " 'ave a seat, let's get bladdered."

Guy had a very stern look about him, his face showed no emotion and his skin looked pale and cold. He was always well dressed and despite his intentions each day, he always looked at least a little classy. Old habit maybe, or maybe he wanted thugs and what not to underestimate him. Yes that would give him a chance to finally let out his frustration with the new Assassins and Hit-men. It got quite annoying when they didn't cooperate or attempted to do something stupid like break the rules. Sure it was fun to have an easy to win brawl with someone but not when the reason is because they're too stupid to use common sense.

The Korean despised his boss, the leader of the whole organisation, he found him to be, naive and lazy. There was so much more he could do with the Organisation but he would never change his mind on keeping things the way they were. So what better way to solve the problem then by killing him?

His hands rested in the pockets of his clean, black pants and he casually entered The Grinning Ghoul. Voices echoed throughout the not so busy area and he kept in mind to not get too comfortable. Hopeful this place would have someone that could help him with his plan to exterminate his boss.