Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Eternal Feast (Any and all may join)!

"Pfft. Merci?" The avian chuckled. "Why not, Mon Ami? You look lonely-" He shrugged. "I'm lonely at the moment. Perfect meeting, non?" He winked, skipping so he could walk alongside Cyclone instead of behind him.

Cyclone: He chuckled, shrugging. “Well, as long as you ain’t a fanboy we’re good. What’s ya name, bud?” He asked, twirling a ball of air on his finger while slamming a bag of coins on the counter with his other hand.

"Zackary." He extended his hand for a handshake of some sorts. "Zackary Marquis." He inhaled sharply before muttering, his eyebrows furrowed. "Yes- The same 'Marquis' as the general's son." He burst out laughing in attempt to cover it up. "You are?"

Cyclone: He laughed. “Sorry bud, never heard o’ ya. I go by Cyclone meself. Obviously not my real name, but had a few too many meets with bad people to keep on calling myself L- ...what I was called.” He said, ordering some food.

He didn't seem upset that his name wasn't known. In fact, he actually murmured a thank you before listening to the rest of what Cyclone had said. "Bad people?" He raised an eyebrow, sipping the beer.

Cyclone: “Yeah, real funstoppers. People like Mafia bosses. Dragons. Er...” He thought for a second. “...The police.”

He place the glass on the counter, questioning Cyclone's hesitation. "The police.." He repeated, glimpsing at the man. He smirked. "What did ya do did get in so much trouble, Mon Ami?"

Cyclone: “Well, that’s quite the person question, Zack. Can I call you Zack?” He asked, taking his drink from the bartender.

He nodded, taking that it was his usual nickname. "I suppose it was.. Je vous desole." He apologized, shrugging it off with another drink of his toxic beverage.

Cyclone: “No biggie.” He said, taking a sip from his foamed mug. “Hm. Too sweet. Anyhow, what brings ya here?” He asked, staring into his eyes with a grin.

Zackary looked up, his gaze anxiously drifting around the room. "Eh.. To get away from.. certain people." He muttered, gripping the handle to the glass. "Pfft- But I suppose they aren't here, so why should I act so tense?" The avian glanced at Cyclone. "May I ask you the same question?"

Cyclone: “Certain people, eh... On the run yourself I see. Personally, I’m just here cuz I got bored of all the fire n’ stuff back home.” He said, taking a sip from his drink despite it being wrong.

He would nod slowly, staring at his reflection on the bottle. He was lost in his thoughts, his weak smile slowly creasing into a frown. He shook the thoughts from his mind, propping his elbow on the table. "The fire?" He lifted his eyebrows, unclear with the expression. Afterall, he wasn't raised somewhere where he got much social interaction, and, even if he did, he was taught to keep his mouth shut and ignore anyone but himself.

Cyclone: “Big flamethrower dude. Burnt down my hometown. I guess in hindsight S’probably why the others didn’t show up...” he said, impressively relaxed.

His eyes widened slightly. He took it in, despite his terrible understanding of English terms and language. Being self-taught did have its doubts. "Others-?" He asked before another question rose. "Flamethrower? 'Hometown' does mean where you grew up, doesn't it? Wait- Who was the Ami with the weapon-?"

Cyclone: He decided to slow down a bit for him. “Righto. A flamethrower is kinda.. fake fire magic, I guess. It’s technically wind, but that ain’t important. Hometown is where you grew up, correct. Flamethrower Guy? No idea. Wore a mask the whole time. The others were just some childhood friends I was gonna meet up with. Guess that ain’t happenin’ Then..” he said, taking his meal from the counter and standing up.

Zackary stood up as well, his eyes sparking with curiosity. "Why would he do it if he.." He struggled to find the words. "..if he wasn't showing his face?" He tilted his head. "He sounds like- ehm- a coward." He blinked, furrowing his brows. "What happened to your.. what did you call them..? Friends?" He pronounced the word as 'fire-ends', though he continued speaking. "Are they still here?"

Cyclone: “Heh, you like your questions. I presume he did it because of the easy power match-up. Everything I threw at him just made him stronger. I guess he wore a mask because of the cameras, if he’s done this before and is recognisable people might sound the evacuation alarm. Find myself doubting my friends made it, but ya never know.” He replied, nonchalant as usual.

He exhaled, falling silent. He told himself to lay off the questions beneath his breath, but he looked up and continued talking. "Your friends-" He stumbled over his words. "-they're.." He raised his hands, flipping them so the palms would be face down. He waved them left and right, hoping he would get what he was trying to say.

Cyclone: “..Dead? I believe you’re asking if they’re dead. That right?” He asked, tossing some food into his mouth.