The Masquerade had ended in a finale of supernatural activity that had left the bar cracked in half and glass confetti composed of every bottle of liquor that had resided untouched on the glamorous shelves behind the bar. It had been fantastical, really, that all of the bottles shattered and the shards rained upon the offending blonde Hunter's head, littering said hair with the remnants of a sharp rain. While the party had presented an opportunity to right a handful of tempermentally committed wrongs, it had presented an opportunity to engage with Serafina in a way that life hadn't actually given me the chance to do so, before. With Tobias' obvious appreciation for me granting me a chance at redemption with his Birdie, I had left their conversation in a mood that startled even me. It might have been fueled by the fire of the champagne, yes, but let's be honest, yeah? It would take a whole hell of a lot more champagne than a glass or three to classify a 6'0" with more than enough muscle to get drunk. Couple the alcohol and a rare, astonishingly good mood and what do you get? Apparently, an enema for an ill-tempered, jealous hunter. I left the Masquerade with a devilish glint in my eyes mirroring off of every shard of glass from the bottles, drinkware, and mirrors that rained on Azrael's head. The intent towards Tobias, Alexis, and Raven had been enough.

Let me tell you one thing about men with tempers: they are weapons, they are violence, they are revenge and a little less than vindication. I had absolutely no doubt I would pay for my actions, but Azrael had seen Serafina look at me, and I was sure his actions would be bred from a cesspool of jealousy and trepidation. Had I been truly worried about the consequences, I would have removed myself from the city for a brief period of time, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit excited about a game of cat and mouse with the hunter. There were hardly any willing or sufficient opponents that would engage in such games that often, and I would be a compulsive liar if I said I didn't miss the dysphoric utopia of the compound home in South Africa that we would bring our mice to. Would Azrael truly play along? I was more irritated with the fact that Serafina knew both of us, and neglected to think that allowing two incredibly volatile men to shake hands and throw down a gauntlet of sorts. Who would think that was a good idea? I'm no sadist (just kidding, I am) but I ... Hm. There is no redemption for trying to think otherwise. Perhaps the hunter had assumed my 'drunken' threats were foolish, stupid. Little did he understand they were simply bait, and if he was anything the intelligent creature he obviously deemed himself to be, he would understand that my insistence on staying in the city after my showcase of ... glass ... (see what I did there?) I made no guise of my work. In our supernatural community, it was well known that I worked in a weapons shop for a very non-present owner. My other work was ... less well known. And it would stay that way; the only reason any of my power and magic would be common knowledge would be either personally viewed displays, or by purchasing one of the weapons I had meddled with.

Particularly rough jobs left me in a sound sleep, contrary to the usual fitful or restless slumber I often found myself in. Let's rephrase: jobs where I used more magic than I should have left me in a sound sleep as no other thing could. I slept badly in the first place, often waking more than once or twice a night with a wakefulness fairly incomparable to others. Generally, I would allow myself a partial slumber that let me keep the locks melted shut and an illusion that there was a body awake and watching the television. Or on particularly uncomfortable nights, the paranoia and discomfort would allow me to weave an illusion based on those feelings that the apartment didn't exist. Period. But tonight? I had no help during the particularly draining job as I had forgotten to enlist Damon's assistance, and though it hadn't taken me very long, I found myself carelessly in bed in the clothes of the day before. Now, it's a rather unfortunate thing that when I do sleep, it is off and on from very deep to drop-a-pin-light. The rope that had made it's way around my ankles hadn't woken me up, but the burst of speed and light had made my blood buzz in a way that electrical storms generally did; badly.

Now, generally I don't mind being tied up and upsidedown for the right reasons, but the predicament was generally unamusing. Groggily, I looked up at the beam in the ceiling knowing that if I broke it, Azrael would have the advantage of knowing that wood was also a terrible option in my presence as it was distinctly of the earth and Mother Nature was my mistress. Azrael's words were deliberate and amused, declaring our need for a little talk. It was evident that he wanted more than a talk, but I had learned my words were best kept to myself until there was something I wanted out of the situation. And now? Despite the obvious possibility for some pain, I didn't know what I wanted from it just yet. It was hard to let the hunter slip through my fingers, but it was more important to let him think that he had found a weakspot. But honestly?

Wood was far easier to distort than metal as metal almost always is tampered with. His fascination with the weapon in his hands let me know he thought he had found a loophole to the magic I knew he didn't understand, which made the corner of my mouth want to slip into a smile. That was under control quickly, and I looked up to the rope he had to see if it was in my power to do anything to get rid of it.

Davante, isn't it? Actually, I really liked Tom Riddle and debated acquiring that as an alias but I licked my lips thoughtfully, keeping the quip to myself as it wouldn't earn any kind of bonus points or even encourage him. Shame. With my name on his lips, it became evident he had done more research than I'd originally thought, but then again... A woman can do that to you.

Things of the earth were always tangible to me. I could feel metal, smell wood and soil and anything that I might need from it, I generally only had to ask. The arrow loaded into his bow nearly quivered for me to take control over it, but I neglected it until it was close enough to change it's course to the rope around my ankles. The arrow would slice it and allow me to right myself while he thought that he had pinned it to the wall near me â€" which it eventually found that target and even skimmed my side a little too closely.

"Perhaps you should," I stated brushing myself off with a slowness to my actions that might let him know I was ready to play. "But perhaps you should have researched a little bit harder." The quiver of his arrows would be reduced to splinters at a moments glance, providing that they weren't too terribly out of my reach. With a very deep breath, I closed my eyes to feel the colors of his irritation, anger, and whathever emotion was available to me to draw from in order to weave a web of illusion in the room. It would turn suddenly from my bedroom to a dark cell that offered him no walls to pin to as they would be stone, and only flame light as a way to see to reduce the idea that there would be electricity to use as I didn't know just how much he knew.

"Perhaps you should try again, Azrael."