Private Finished Happiness In A Bottle

Deith was holding up a phone when he entered. The place was nice; it was lively but not wild and they were playing jazz instead of the noisy electronic music that never really pleased his ears.

He was tipped by a contact about this place, and was tasked to check it out. He had the phone because he had been in the middle of communicating with them.

So far so good. The first impression was pleasing.

The place was crowded, and Deith was never really the type to sit alone by the tables anyway, so he headed straight to the bar and took a seat beside the lady that looked strong and badass and she belonged in this place so much that Deith guessed she probably did belong here. He hid his phone in the pocket of his jacket before calling for the bartender to give him some whiskey on ice. The phone didn't last too long in his pocket because it began to vibrate and Deith required himself to answer who was calling.

He made sure not to speak much, as there were other people near him who would otherwise hear the conversation too well. Soon he focused on his drink and watched as another performer group went up the stage and did their thing.

He liked the place. On normal circumstances, he might even decide to come back next time.

If only he wasn't ordered to mess this place up.

Deith continued to act like a normal customer. He had glanced at the woman beside him once or twice, and then eventually decided to strike a conversation. Because that's how visiting clubs alone usually went.

"Hi," he said, leaning closer so he could get her to hear him despite the music. "These singers are pretty good, huh? You know them?"

Deith raised a brow. Well he didn't exactly expect he'd be sitting beside the club owner, but that has somehow made tonight much better considering what he was really here for.

He had no idea what the happy hour meant, but guessed it was probably similar to other bars. He quickly finished his glass of whiskey and asked for more, then asked for the special house cocktails. He smiled at the woman and held his glass up for cheers, even though she seemed to be more busy smoking than drinking at the moment.

"Thanks for the drinks, then," he said, before gulping the liquid down. He put the glass back on top of the bar and looked around once more. He was here to thrash the place, but he still accepted drinks from the owner.

He wasn't going to feel bad about it.

"Miss Owner, as payback for the drinks, I'm gonna tell you why I'm here." As Deith spoke, a heavy mist of illusions formed around the bar, which he later on turned into shadows and a fake sensation of suffocation. "You seem to have crossed paths with a friend of mine and he is not happy. So I'm gonna have to ruin tonight's party, but you can try to stop me."

She could try, but by that moment her guests were already panicking towards the exit. Deith added illusionary flames in one corner to stir the crowd even worse, and the result had him grinning.

This Zero guy caught him, yes, but only because he hadn't moved from his spot. It was when the owner lady swung her first that he finally moved, bending his back a little and jumping backwards to dodge.

The illusions faded. After all, it has already served its purpose, and that was to cause panic among the guests here inside. The place was a mess after they had all run outside to evacuate. That was when Deith went to the tables.

He looked at her as he grabbed a couple of chairs and through them to the windows, to the stage, and to other tables. As if he was teasing her and daring her to stop him. There were other gang members around Deith, but he was swift, and he could jump away easily, being a demon himself and having his own pair of wings that he can use anytime. "Well, what are you going to do, Miss Owner?"

Deith wasn't threatened. His contact didn't mention anything about moving objects a living bar, and honestly the surprise had managed to catch him off guard, but he wasn't threatened. He's ruined their night and that's what he was here for. So. Mission success.

Now if he could just make some more damage.

He threw three knives from his pocket to the owner. "How about a match, Miss Owner? One on one." Deith glanced at the red pepper with horns near the entrance and asked him, too, "Or you. Match?"

The metal rods were what kept Deith from dodging the punch that the bar's owner threw at him. He had watched out for all of them and the only safe direction was towards the woman. On impact, Deith flew to some distance, and not because of his wings, crashing against the chairs and tables that he had tried to mess up.

Groaning, he very immediately stood back up and threw himself to her. Not even a second later he already managed to cover their distance, and he would have absolutely dealt some good damage if only he knew where to hit.

He hasn't yet stopped his motion when he threw a strong kick at her, and it hit her arm instead of her ribs. And since that part was a lot harder than flesh, Deith felt the impact shoot up an electrifying pain to his entire body, making him completely soft as he fell back to the floor and held his shin.

"Ugh... idiot..." he grumbled to himself. He also wasn't informed that the owner was a woman, or that she wasn't completely flesh. He was starting to think there was some kind of mistake, but he was in too deep now to back out.