The Midnight Sun

The twins stare at the fudge.

He left the fudge.

But he was mad. What if the fudge caused the madness?

They wouldn't sell that in shops. Anyway, he was drunk.

Hmm...

They deliberate for a while, then cut it in half and eat it quickly.

That's good.

Yeah.

In strode Karath, bearing the clothing, tattoo and weapon designs of the far south desert of Sorala. Icy blue eyes stared from beneath wild locks of thick, sunbleached hair at the serving counter with a hedonistic longing. He'd sit down at the bar and boldly announce his desire for something refreshing.

Turning his hat over in his hand a few times (a bizarre sight if there ever was one) Maelik grunted in recognition and before another word could be said he snapped his fingers and his clothes darkened to the previously mentioned color scheme.

"I agree my dear, and I must say you have marvelous fashion sense."

He spun on his heels and turned for the door, drawing a hand over his empty eye socket and conjuring an ethereal eye patch over it.

"Well, it's been a pleasure conversing with you Skarlet, likewise with you as well Mr. Reese, but I should be making my way to the kitchen proper. After all I do have a job to do and I'm eager to get acquainted with the rest of the staff. And... well I may need some time to whip the other chefs into shape if they aren't up to my standards. If my eye is finished before too long please be a darling and send word to me so that I may pick it up, cooking may be a challenge if I loose my depth perception for too long... Anyway, tootles!"

And with that he hurried out the door and replaced his monolithic hat back on top of his head. With a flick of his wrist he manifested a black apron and slipped it on as he bounced down the stairs towards the main floor. By the time he reached the bar he was in full professional mode, his face was stern and any air of his earlier silliness was suffocated and stamped out under the dead set determination that took it's place.

He noted the new faces and was pleased that he'd be catering to a some new blood, although he was understandably apprehensive as to how his skills would go over with their palates. But before pleasure came business, and he needed to know how the kitchen handled it's affairs under normal circumstances. So instead of entering the prep hall Maelik lurked at the bar, politely greeting the barkeep and taking a seat on a stool at the counter.

"Don't mind me, I'm just waiting for a dish to come out. Gotta judge its quality and the customer's satisfaction in regards to their meal. Not that I expect it to be anything but exemplary but I have to know what I'm working with."

He looked down at the drink, glad to have received something quickly, but asked "..what does it do?"

"Any side-effects?" One eyebrow went up with an inquisitive stare.

"Not of the sort I'm talking about," he said with the slightest of smiles, though having resigned to Kevin's resistance, he took a sip.

The next morning, Davous wakes up with a splitting headache. "Blessed are the pure of heart, and damned are the people who mess with demons... Uuuughh..."

He descends to the bar and smiles at the patrons. "Wotcher, 'morning, doing just chipper, thanks..." Davous walks right outside the Midnight Sun and turns in the direction of Fletcher's Delectables, to buy another dosage.

His legs give out once he touches the road. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," he mutters to his thighs. He retrieves a pocket book from his robes and rifles through the pages. "Set...Anra...Zarachamel...my head hurts...Pilfur...Mortreon... Demons have the most stupid names. Oh, oh, here we are."

He marks the place with his finger and pats himself down with his other hand, finally locating a vial of amber fluid. Tiny, reptilian eyes are floating in the gel. Davous pours the contents of the vial on the ground, tosses it aside, and draws a dagger. He presses down on the gel with the flat of the blade, crushing the eyes. He wearily mutters some guttural incantation and draws a pentagram in the dirt with the dagger.

His demon companion appears. "Master Davouuuuuus? You look...iiilllll."
"Yes, and I am, you godsforsaken monster. I can't walk."
"Cannnn't wallllk? Lame, hurt, or weaaaak?"
"Just carry me, will you? To that abominable shop run by the old man."
"There are many establishments that would match thaaaaat description, Davouuuuuus."
"You know the one. Carry me there or suffer."
"Assss you wishhhhh."
<Delayed exit to Fletcher's Delectables>

Hasdrubal quickly checks the rest of the building, but fails to find Nakoi. He idly bites his finger, allowing a black fluid to ooze out. He uses it to write on nakoi's door.

"Gone dragon hunting. Don't be surprised if I bring one home. -H"

He then leaves.

[exit to Green's Greens.]

Karath is very impressed with the nootropic effects, and the speed of delivery. Naturally, this accompanies a realization that this effect, this experience, could be useful in many different ways.
"So, what's in it?"