The Bar at the End of the Universe

The soft sounds of the harp were soothing.

This place was suspicious. He was always suspicious of Ishamael's motivations. The man was mad. Calculating sidelong glances as he watched the patrons of this weird space. He did not really care how or why they got here. That was best left to someone like Mesaana.

Sitting by the fire, a pretty man in unrelieved black sat with a glass of ice water in hand. He was speaking in hushed tones to handsome man with dark features lounging indolently on the couch. A harp sat in his lap and he played casually as he spoke.

Asmodean and Ishamael were discussing matters, dark matters, as it turned out.

[OOC: You may have one or both of the Forsaken. They aren't in long, millitime around if there would be problems. Asmodean is prior to his previous entrance and is quite evil. Please to not be breaking his brain]