A FEAST for two
[[Closed Starter]]
@djinnoffire
Scylifino Ristorante had shut it's doors some hours prior, however between the closed slats, if one were looking, one might see the faintest, warm glow of life. Although the town's most romantic restaurant was closed to the public, a skeleton crew stayed on to attend to the whims of one Dracoth Scourge. The incubi paid well, and as was often the case, certain members of staff seemed mysteriously inclined to go above and beyond to please Dracoth.
Earlier in the week Dracoth had sent word to his long time friend and partner in crime Notelaih, inviting him to the restaurant after hours. The message had also suggested fasting in advance. A joke it might have been, but the warning was there nonetheless, and it was not without need.
Inaide, the air was filled with the aroma of roasted meats and spiced wines and the air was warm from the crackling fire. The one table in the restaurant still in use, groaned beneath the weight of dishes and bottles, flowers and spirit candles, leatherbound books and scrolls, and scrolls of parchments.
Dracoth was a consumer of most things, but there were some things, food being one of them, where he possessed an incredibly sensitive pallet. Meaning, he could be... particular...He was difficult to cook for and could be a nightmare when presented with sub standard food, however if done right (cooked right) a good meal was a fool proof way to win Dracoth's loyalty and respect.
The skeleton crew focused on final touches for the feast for two, while Dracoth stood by the hearth fumbling through the Bards Tale on a lute. A jack of all trades, a master of none, the lute was just another of many pass times sampled and adopted over the years. Dracoth would need more practice, but what he lacked in technique, he made up for enthusiasm. There was evident enjoyment on his face, a jovial smile and brows that came together and darted apart where the tune dipped and peaked. He looked almost childlike.
Still, when a noise at the entrance startled him out of his reverie, Dracoth looked up from his instrument, his eyes immediately searching for his friend, and the smile broadened.
"Ah, my freond!" Dracoth called out, tossing the lute to one side, narrowly avoiding an attendant bustling past with a tankard of ale. Oblivious to his own carelessness, the incubi darted forwards, his long limbs rippling beneath the ornately decorated tunic he wore. This evening, Dracoth had dressed for his company, thus he was adorned in rubies and emeralds. As he spread his long arms to offer an embrace for his friend, no doubt the jewels that draped around his throat would press into his companion, feeling cold and hard, a juxtaposition to the warmth emanating from Dracoth himself.