The Game

You have just taken shelter in a bar, resting from the simple task of trying to get to work. Who ever you pissed off, they really want you dead or suffering, you can't tell. The patrons give you a weird look, giving you the paranoid feeling whatever hates you may be controlling them.

Please introduce your characters.

Eoghaill sits at the bar, drinking nothing. He rests a hand on the bar, with another hand fingering the hilt of one of his knives.

What the hell pissed these people off? he thinks.

With a Mike's Hard in hand, the irate Jace leaned back against his chair and growled at the foul weather and room alike. "I swear, Murphy's Law has it out for me lately," Jace theatrically sighed. "I'm beginning to wonder if this is what it looks like when, after spitting God in the eye, He decides to spit back." At that thought, the man ran a quick hand through his short hair and shook off the excess water, a look of light disgust covering his features. "Nasty."

Ivy remained stagnant near the doorway, seeking make herself scarce; what have I have done to deserve this? She wondered. Occasionally her gaze would wander the room, and the atmosphere was not too friendly at that. With a smooth sigh, she leans against the wall, with her stomach poking outward as she began to trace circles along her thin frame, whispering an unknown rhyme to herself.

Damnit, why does everything work exactly like I hope it won't? Cael thinks as he orders a beer.
Oh well, can't go back and change it now.
He muses as he looks around the room.

Each of you suddenly notice each other, getting the feeling that they are somehow like you. Thunder rolls in the background.

"Thunder? Really?" Eoghaill stands up, and walks towards the door.

Ivy turns her gaze the approaching man nonchalantly, before turning towards the nearest window looking towards the outside. "A storm's coming...."

Jace looks between the others, his face betraying a sudden surprise over the sudden pull of the Wyrd before shifting to a poor mask of disinterest. Connected, somehow, to these strangers. "Curiouser and curiouser," he mused softly. "I wonder what this is about now. Another trap, or... Well, there's only way to find out." Standing up, the lanky guy eased his way through the crowd towards the others, formulating what to say on his way over.

Eoghaill on his way to the door, turns suddenly, and extends his arm blocking the path of the other Lost in the room.

"Where are you going"