<strong>"I am the Lord of Blackest Night, a magician of dark skill and terrible import whose very name causes tremors to run down the spines of many. I do not <em>sit at bars</em> when there is a perfectly acceptable table already drenched in shadows right here."</strong><br/><br/>David de Sabre rarely made jokes, or slipped out of the work of art he had turned himself into, which made it all the more surprising he had made that comment... self-aware, maybe even self-depricating. But this was a new beginning and while it may take a while David wished to become more than just another body on the Last Laugh who put on shows. He wanted to be part of the crew. Perhaps this was what ownership did, perhaps this is how it made you feel and work. His eyes widened as he thought of something. Was it some twisted magic that made him realise what he did, reading minds or seeing the future, or was it merely observation of what was occurring.<br/><br/>You'll never know, because David never told.<br/><br/><strong>"Ah, my friend, it appears you are unaware of the twists of fate that bring us back together once again, of the ascent to the heavens that gives us our power and lets us loose to once more set out into the great unknown. It is more fortuitous that you have come here this night then... the hand of destiny perhaps."</strong>