they argued my right to ascension

It is the soft, subtle pitter patter of rain against the window that seems to draw the blonde hunter's attention away from the glass before him, golden eyes turned to rest upon the window pane and the streams of liquid that pour down it in depressive ways. Rain. Brilliant. It is with an almost resolute sigh, an acknowledgement that much of his night was already ruined, that saw the often irritable man return to his inspection of the drink before him- one further interrupted by the sudden appearance of a vampire Azrael remembers meeting entirely too well. Hmm, the leech from the hotel who thought he was funny, the one who had been entirely too observant in regards to Azrael's own.....personal life when the rest of the group had managed to remain very near oblivious to his attentions upon the witch- a mistake he had no desire to make again and one he regretted all the more for the sudden presence of this...Damon. The suddenly extend hand is met with little more than a snort, the Hunter entirely content to ignore it, having no desire to touch an undead creature any more then was truly necessary, offering little more than a nod by way of acknowledgement of the man's presence as his mood saw fit to only plummet further. The offered name however, was swiftly stored away for future reference.

"Azrael."

He is capable, it would seem, of some politeness when truly pushed, offering his own moniker in turn although truly he supposed it hardly mattered, he had little desire to see this Damon fellow again, the man having proven himself little more than an irritation on more than one level. It was merely fortunate perhaps, that Azrael has no desire to hunt tonight, even despite the discomfort the vampires mere presence brings for him, like a static upon his skin that seems to prick and tease, an itch that only his impending death would scratch- jaw setting in a firm, hard line in an attempt to draw his mind away from his desire to maim the man merely for what he was. Even if he deserved it. Then again, perhaps this Red on The Water would merely encounter so many violations that the hunting council would be forced to exterminate it permanently. How very unfortunate. A simper of sorts manages to dance briefly along the mans lips at his own internal thoughts, allowing them to fade, for now, at Damon's explanation of the drink that rested before him, the liquid still wholly untouched. He has hardly survived eighty years by eating and drinking every food one of them put in front of him, this one eyed with much the same suspicion until the name of the concoction seemed to earn the vampire a single, lifted eye.

"How very creative of you."

It is the complete lack of amusement within the mans voice that surely gives way to the sarcasm that seems to lace the comment like a thinly spread veil, golden eyes returning briefly to the vampire in momentary surprise at his offer of a tour. It was rare indeed that the owners of the supernatural establishments were willing to serve him, let alone offer to assist in making his job easier, eyes narrowed warily a moment before managing a shrug of sorts.

"I rarely regret anything. Although you win points for actually offering a tour, we might as well get started because the sooner I finish the sooner I can leave and I am entirely sure that would make us both happier."

One hand simply gestured for the other man to lead the way, hardly fearing that this was some form of elaborate plot to lead him to an empty back room and a coven of hungered vampires- that had been tried before and had hardly ended well for any of the vampires involved, Azraels own more recently discovered talents with light also assuring the man he had little to fear from this particular leech- or any leech whom displayed a weakness to sunlight, the vast majority of them falling so neatly within this category. It was merely unfortunate the council had become aware of it, content to send the irritable blonde on a seemingly endless list of vampire based missions if only for the ease he had taken to dispatching them with. It would seem however that his hopes of a relatively simple task were to be entirely dashed with the appearance of the red-haired vampire he had met several times, her words holding an evident note of...disapproval of Damon's own as his own features frowned slightly, eye flicking from one to the other. Mates perhaps? Which one was in charge however, remained to be seen, his own shoulders shrugging loosely once more.

"That's fine, I can come back later after you're closed, break in, probably through a very nice back window, rummage around on my own for several hours, set off your security alarms, break locked doors and murder any of your staff members who might be lingering about because it is late at night and I'm tired and in a bad mood and they got in my way- or Damien can simply show me and we can all go back to our lives, or deaths, or whatever you call living- your choice, Isolt."

Golden eyes lift briefly to her own once more, hand reaching easily for the drink now- finding he was curious enough to sample it, allowing himself the barest of tastes be replacing it upon the bar, the drink hardly bad and yet he has no desire to inform them of the satisfaction of it, content to be difficult- if not wholly belligerent only because he can. The young red-haired woman had done nothing to incur his frosted tone or thinly veiled threat and yet he simply finds he is in no such mood to indulge her tonight. He had told her far to much the last time they had met and finds he is unwilling to be pulled into the same conversation again- any more of that drink however and he was entirely sure he would forget his own name.

"I'm not hungry- thank you."

The rumbling sound from within his stomach however- contradicting such a statement completely.

Azrael Evero

only fools walk where angels fear to tread