to feel that we exist, even though in pain
♠︎ ♕ ♠︎
The less-than-friendly expressions across the room darkened further when the stranger said Davke, but they aren’t the only ones whose interest shifts. “Davke? August says, turning to appraise his companion anew. He’s heard a few tales of the desert bands, as good at surviving as they are at killing, and they have always snared his interest, surely as a bramble catches a bit of linen cloth. “Are you one of them, then?” It’s an easy answer to guess (particularly when the man has all but said it), but he leans forward anyway.
The palomino takes the compliment with a grin, though the more he drinks the less wise his words become - at least to those listening who are not quite so inebriated. “I’m August, and I am decidedly not.” He might have expanded on that, but luckily the unicorn’s gesture steers him away from it. Instead he glances down at the tattoo, lips quirked thoughtfully. It had been the better part of a year since he’d been back to the Scarab; in truth, he was beginning to forget the mark was there.
He’s been questioned about it many times, but never about it being a cult; the question draws his attention back to Jahin with a laugh. “Sometimes it felt like one. But no - it marks me as an employee of the White Scarab, a gambling house in Denocte.” And much more than that. “Who do you know-?”
August is cut off by one of the other customers clearing his throat, loudly and insistently. He glances over his shoulder, brow raised, and finds them all staring, and not in a friendly way. Whether it was talk of the Davke, Denocte, or general Solterra-bashing that did it it’s impossible to know, but their mood is clear.
“It’s getting a bit warm in here, isn’t it?” he says to Jahin, only half-slurring the words, and catches the eye of the bartender. She raises her eyebrows at him pointedly, and August counts out a dozen signos, then a few more for good measure, and leaves them on the bar with a soft clink. “Let’s, ah, get some air.” It’s harder than it should be to find the exit, but he manages, only to pause for a moment and lean against the doorframe, squinting against the bright midday sun.
@jahin | this is turrible but they will be good bros. should we close up?
