A shadow seemed to descend upon the room, and when both Jarrick and Azrivel found it convenient to pay attention, they found that time seemingly had stopped around them. The room was dead silent, and there was no sound even from the occasional mouse-hole in the wall. The others around them seemed frozen in time, their actions paused in mid-gesture, as though time itself had stopped. As if that were not strange enough, there was an odd coloring to the room, as though they were viewing it through a colored lens of some sort, turning everything to an odd grayish color. The two looked around, confused as to what had happened, even to Exanderous, who, oddly, seemed to be the only one still capable of moving- he watched from cold, narrowed eyes behind the bar. But then something else caught their eyes. A lurid, ethereal glow emanated from a slim figure across the Tavern- one that had, until this moment, chosen to remain silent, content to watch the events unfold around her while Malachi slept upstairs.
Although they could not see her eyes behind the sunglasses, the two could tell that Mistress Fate was staring directly at both of them. She calmly took a sip of her wine before addressing them. "Time is a funny thing, isn't it? We say that it flows unchecked through the annals of history, but really, it is as easily bent as a willow-branch in the breeze. That being said, whatever happens outside of time- the state that we currently reside within- STAYS outside of time. Think of it as a larger, more intense version of Vegas in that respect. Therefore, if I were to... oh I don't know..." Here, she waved her hand and two books appeared on the table before her in whisps of black smoke. Both were heavy, and both were leatherbound beauties. The woman held her palm over one and a black, fiery ooze dripped from it over the clasp of one of them. It sizzled and smoked with a nauseating stench. "If I were to accidentally destroy either of your histories, no one would be the wiser, and I could go along my way. And the Guardian there wouldn't do a thing about it. And do you know why?" When she received no answer, she continued. "Because he and I have a mutual respect for one another; a concept that seems to escape both of you." Her pale hand slammed onto the cover of the nearest book and a black fog emanated from it and floated across the floor towards them, encompassing them both and hiding her from view.
A moment later, she emerged through it, and though they could not see her gaze, they knew that her eyes were narrowed, and her lips were pursed. "I shudder to think what he has in store for you if either of you throws another temper tantrum like that again, or indeed, if you continue to disregard his rules." Here, the woman sneered, a nasty smirk caressing her pointed features. "You should consider yourselves lucky, were it me in his shoes, you would already be less than a memory here. But he is more... patient than I. But I am not bound to follow him, and if I were to lose control of myself for a moment, it would be a tragic accident for both of you specifically. He may put up with your disrespect, but I will not. You will not speak out of character or turn in this Tavern, nor will you engage in open combat. I will not stand for it. This is not a place for such childish testosterone displays. If you want to wave your privates around and figure out who's is bigger, there is a strip club down the road, I'm sure they'd welcome you there."
The books appeared in her hands, and they noted that the covers were now marred, the leather scarred beyond recognition by some unseen force. It seemed to eat at the edges of the pages even as they watched. "I hope that I have made myself clear, gentlemen." Her voice echoed in their minds as the sound returned to the room around them and life continued. Fate exchanged glances with Ex before making her way over to the bar and pulling up a stool in the corner nearest the wall.
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