A pale hand swirled the glass, saffron eyes watching the amber liquid as upbeat classical music sounded through the large ballroom. He lifted the glass to his black lips, downing the liquid as he relished the burn of his throat. A strong hand came down on his shoulder.<br/><br/>"Long day there, mate?" a gruff voice asked as it's owner slid into the barstool. Shayde licked his lips, lowering the glass. "Always a long day," he said, sighing as his eyes looked ahead, his attention focused on the liquor bottles that decorated the wall. The larger male, Torne, chuckled, looking toward the bartender. A handsome figure, distracted by a blonde succubus. As her red fingernail traced down his face, Torne reached across the bar and beneath, his hand grasping a bottle of beer.<br/><br/>"How many?" he asked, popping the lid off on the side of the bar before taking a swig. Shayde glanced to the other, spinning on the stool to face him.<br/><br/>"One hundred fifty three thousand, roughly. Why do you ask?" Shayde narrowed his eyes, turning his gaze to the red haired man. Torne chuckled, his shoulder shrugging as he looked toward the floor of gyrating people. "I'm just curious as to what my chances are."<br/><br/>"Fourteen percent." Shayde stood up, taking the final gulp of his whiskey before setting the glass down. The slim man turned, looking to the single brown door across the hall. A special threshold for all newcomers to pass through, but to never cross again. It was the alternative, for those who weren't ready for the next stages. They were his priority. He never lingered too long on one, he simply couldn't spare the time. After all, why would he want to? They weren't worth more than five minutes, they were just another soul to get lost in his world. His head tipped to the side.<br/><br/>"Have they expanded yet?"<br/><br/>"What?" Shayde sighed, looking to the other. Torne smiled, "the door. Or did you do it all alone again?" Shayde looked back to the wooden frame, "it should be in effect. The turnout was... Less than normal," he said slowly, adjusting the black tie around his neck. Torne looked toward a brunette woman approaching the bar, his gaze lingering on the hatchet embedded in her ribcage. The blood painted her dress, staining the blue fabric.<br/><br/>"What's her story?"<br/><br/>"What? Torne..." Shayde's hand moved, rubbing at his temple as the stress crawled up the back of his neck. "I am working. Go talk to her yourself. And get that out of her, I already tried. She was too afraid, the bitch screamed at me and hightailed it into the crowd," the man said, locking eyes with the shaken woman. The black mascara had streaked her cheeks, her blue eyes still blurred with tears. Shayde smiled, "I don't chase, my dear. If you wish for our help, I reccomend you take a seat."<br/><br/>Torne stood, towering his dark haired friend by two feet. The woman shrunk down in the barstool with a whimper, her chin tilting up at the abnormally large being before her. "Eighty six percent, Torne." Shayde winked and stepped away, leaving the two alone.<br/><br/>The twenty five peice band slowed down, his eyes watching as the undead joined hands with another in a slow dance. He looked to the door as he walked the sideline of the ten thousand square foot ballroom floor. He couldn't slack on his job. Not until he had a good reason. After all... He was an administrator of the dead. Who else would welcome the fresh meat?<br/><br/><div class="bbCodeSpoiler">
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Name: Shayde <br/>
Age: N/A <br/>
Height: 5'9<br/>
Weight: 184lbs <br/>
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</div>_________<br/>Requirements:<br/>2+ paragraphs<br/>Mxf or mxm, your choice<br/>A simple character sheet<br/>Have fun