No Sleep, No Rest For My Wretched Soul (PM to Join)

[Klezmer Gryphon]

The warm, flickering flame danced lazily upon its white wax pedestal, its light barely illuminating the disheveled bureau the candle stood upon, providing just enough light for Vadim at the desk to see what he was doing. It was almost silent in his study that evening, the only audible sounds in the room being his breath, and the steady scratching of his quill upon the parchment of an open ledger sitting in front of him. As a long sigh left his lungs, the raccoon looked up from his work just for a moment, squinting into the darkness beyond his candle-lit bureau as a faint knocking sounded from the front room.

"Probably just a breeze against the shutters," he muttered, his eyes looking down at the ledger once more as he set the ink-covered feather back into the inkwell. A long evening of recording numbers and names was starting to take its toll on him, and the only thing on his mind as the noise from the front room resounded again through the small apartment was getting some sleep. Tired as he was, he could make out the disinct sound of someone knocking on wood the second time it came around; someone was at his front doorstep. With an almost feral groan, Vadim forced himself from his chair, half-dragging his feet to the front room as the knocking sounded for a third time.

"Whaddya want, you fucking putz?! It's damned near midnight, and you're here keepin' me from some fuckin' beauty rest!" he shouted into the darkness as he swung open the large, wooden door, not really concerned with who might be on the other side, or that he might wake up the rest of the neighborhood with his profanity at that hour. If he had to suffer through the incompetence of one person at that ungodly hour, then the rest of the city could too, for all he cared.

[Arthuriel]

This wasn't at all how Jack thought he'd be spending his evening. It was late in the night, of course, some many hours before dawn but well after dusk and he'd thought he'd be drinking, or training. Most people were sleeping, but Jack had learned to meditate for a few hours from, well... that isn't important.

But he wasn't drinking (As he had planned), he was dealing with a short, rather barreled-shaped man who just insisted on speaking to Vadim.

"I absolutely insist I speak to whoever you work for!" The man had practically shrieked. "He cheated my son out of coin and I demand he repay him."

"Your son knew the risk and I cannot let you speak with him." Jack had calmly replied, despite his increasing urge to punch his stupid, fat face. The man had ignored him, barreling past him up the wooden stairs.

"Is this his room?" He had asked, pointing to a random door that just happened to be Vadim's. Before Jack could answer, the man banged his stubby hand on the door.

"I suggest you stop that," Jack warned, crossing his arms.

He frowned at Jack, then knocked again though this was mainly in spite. He raised his hand to knock a third time, but Jack had had it with him. He placed one hand on the man's shoulder and the other on his head.

"All I wanted was a drink..." He muttered to himself before addressing the man himself. "I could easily break you right now, so you're not gonna move or say another word, okay?"

The man nodded nervously, beginning to sweat profusely as Jack released him. With a resigned sigh, he knocked on the door. A few moments later, an angry voice shouted. "Whaddya want, you fucking putz?! It's damned near midnight, and you're here keepin' me from some fuckin' beauty rest!" The door opened, an angry, racoon-looking fellow standing in the doorway.