A bit of Xig to go with your bar (complete)

Ah, this was how evenings should be. No obligations, no chasing after a couple of egotistical punks. Despite his conviction that the First District of Traverse Town had enough action potential to put one to sleep, to lounge in the heat and warm lamplight of the bar, drink in hand, was a welcome lull in the stream of missions he'd undertaken the past few weeks. Man, I could get used to this.

Oil lamps flickered. The noise in the tavern was a steady level of talk and laughter.

Alright, he was used to it.

Perhaps it was time to stir things up a bit and stave off the impending boredom.

Xigbar's gold eyes traveled from one end of the small but cheerful area to the other, observing the wide range of intoxication in the town's residents. His own senses were nearly as sharp as ever; alcohol took quite a while to impact his Nobody body, and even the most undiluted of drinks in this world affected him less than an average one would a human. (The tolerance didn't annoy him as much as it could have, though - naturally, to be able to hold one's drink meant more of said beverage could be consumed.)

In any case, at the present moment neither Xigbar's eyes nor his ears were perceiving the majority of the stimuli in the animated environment. Right then energy dominated sight, sound, and smell. The current energies in the room were hazy, but bright and exuberant. Typical of Traverse.

A small movement in the back corner of the bar caught in his peripheral vision. Xigbar's head turned, and his eyes quickly found the feminine figure that had just moments before lifted a bottle to her lips. On an all too characteristic impulse, Xigbar swiped a chair from a neighboring table, pulled up at the woman's own, and promptly sat down across from her, taking a swig from his drink as he did so.

"Hey, ain't you a pretty one," he said amiably, leaning back in the stolen seat. "Got a name, hun?"

"Ya don't say?" Xigbar's brow arched, and he leaned forward, peering closely at the person before him. His gold eyes met a fierce violet for a moment. Then he sat back in his seat and outright laughed out loud, his husky and prolonged cachinnation causing a few people at the bar to turn their heads to stare before quickly returning to their own, most likely less eventful business.

"Hah!" Xigbar finally managed to punctuate his laughter with words. "Right you are, darlin'. Not that it particularly matters. But Christ, glue on a fake beard or something. You could get in trouble with those looks."

The glare he was receiving could freeze hell over.

Xigbar smirked and propped his boots up on the table. (The glare from the female barkeeper was promptly ignored.) He spoke from around the rim of the bottle at his lips. "You know, you never did tell me your name."

"Rachael," Xigbar replied, setting his bottle down on the table. He quirked an eyebrow at Leiz. Down to monosyllables now. This guy has gotta give Dem lessons.

Glancing about the room, Xigbar came to the conclusion that he could have chosen one better to entertain himself with that evening. Ah well, this kid was more interesting than many of the buffoons present, a majority of which probably hadn't so much as seen the gate to the Third District from a distance. A tad antisocial, but hell, he lived in a castle with Zexion and Saix. He could manage.

"Leiz, buddy," Xigbar said, gesturing lazily towards the green-haired man, "Humor me. You don't have to like me to make good conversation."

As much as he doubted it, there was a chance this guy was a Traverse Town native. He looked like one who'd be able to walk the darker streets of the town. Perhaps Xigbar could take advantage of his own err in judgment (or sex identification abilities), and learn something useful. Or I could sit here and talk myself to death under a female alias with a human icicle. Beats hanging back at the castle.

There was a slight chance the alcohol was beginning to kick in.

Too soon to pass judgment. Now there was a guy who knew a bit of the ways of the world. Said person, Xigbar noticed, was either finally beginning to succumb to his drink or had decided to turn down the Ice Queen aura for the time being. Xigbar smirked. The change in attitude was practically tangible.

And yeah, Superior, why the goddamn trench coats?

"Glum and gloomy, huh? Kid, this is the style. Or so the boss evidently believes, and what can ya do?"

Xigbar was laughing again, pleased that the guy wasn't a total dud after all. Then again, he hadn't truly thought he was to begin with. It had more so been a question of what rested behind his initial frost barrier, still just scratching the surface but at least no longer frozen, rather than if there was anything at all. The alcohol helped.

At Leiz's next words, Xigbar adopted a look of mock indignation and, running his hand along the cheek that bore his scar, exclaimed, "My beauty mark? Nah, it'd be a shame to cover this baby up."

A sip from the bottle. He noticed with dismay that the liquid was beginning to run dry. Ah well, there was more where it came from. "And what about you? Got a job worth complaining about? You don't seem to be from around here, but hell, I can't even tell anymore."

He didn't particularly look like he enjoyed talking about himself, either, but since when did Xigbar care about that?

Xigbar quirked an eyebrow at the kid at the mentioned 'sympathetic human resources department', but at least caught the drift. Inconspicuous indeed. Superior must have been going for more the mysterious, allows-wearer-darkness-as-means-of-transportation look, rather than any other form or functionality.

"Ah, good man," Xigbar said approvingly as the serving lady left to get more drinks per Leiz' command. The last of his current bottle ran dry as he listened to the green-haired teen's job description.

"Oho? Well, you've got me, I still haven't the slightest idea what you do for a living," Xigbar said with a snort, speaking, for once, in all honesty. He didn't particularly care to pry further and left it at that. It was evident by now that Leiz was not a true inhabitant of Traverse Town. Hm, and how would he phrase his job? It was quite a question to ponder.

"You've seen much of the town yet?" He asked, partly for a change of topic, partly because he was curious how much Leiz knew of the little bastards. In any case, he was quite enjoying himself. "You get those Heartless buggers in the Second and Third Districts here, but for some reason rarely the First. 'Strange as hell - never could figure out why."

At that moment the waitress reappeared with the drinks. Xigbar grinned, swapping his now empty bottle for the large mug she had set on the table before him. Over the rim of the drink he watched her do the same for Leiz. He almost choked on his first swig of the tawny ale, eye bright with poorly constrained laughter as the woman strode away.

"Cheers, my friend," Xigbar managed to choke out. He lifted his mug high before bringing it to his lips.

"Guerrilla tactics?" Xigbar repeated amusedly, entertained by the fellow's lapse into drunkenness. He still had a few drinks to go before he could match his state.

Swirling his finger lazily around the rim of the mug, Xigbar contemplated the scores of Heartless he had come into contact with over the years. He came to the conclusion that, for the most part, Leiz's slurred statement was true, although he was quite aware that it only truly applied to the lesser beings. There was one Heartless he was quite familiar with that would most certainly rather squash any allies flat than maul a poor bastard alongside them. Unfortunately, the keyblading punk took care of that one. . . pity. It seemed that Leiz's encounters with the pests must have been relatively limited to the smaller of their brethren. Unless the guy was just rambling. At this point it was quite the possibility.

By now feeling pleasantly lethargic, Xigbar leaned back with his mug and opened his mouth to initiate some more lazy conversation. However, just as he was beginning to comment on something with the gist of Leiz's job and women, a familiar movement flickered in his peripheral vision. Surreptitiously, he glanced over to the shadows outside the bar. Sure enough, two fluid, sinuous silver Dusks danced just in his line of sight, their eyeless faces angled pointedly towards him. Aw, shit.

Lesser Nobodies in the First District of Traverse Town? As if. Apparently, someone had decided his break time was over. Time flies when you're having drinks.

Turning back to Leiz, Xigbar asked with reluctance evident in his tone, "Hey, you got a watch or somethin' on ya? I may or may not have lost track of time. Every lady's got to get her. . . ah, beauty rest."

He doubted it was even midnight yet in this world. Still, Leiz was a smart guy, he'd catch on - and probably not bother to ask questions. It was a shame Xigbar couldn't stay longer. Though not quite a Luxord when it came to holding his drinks (truly, one couldn't judge a man for being neither Nobody nor pseudo-British), this frozen lady turned drunken man actually turned out to be good company.