Fangrethdays.

Fangrethdays were the absolute worst.

Honestly, Killua was starting to suspect that ALL days were the worst, and he'd just have to accept that. But in any case, Fangrethdays were the first day of the week, right after the Day of Rites and Rituals. Business was always slow on these days, but still. Just being a Fangrethday made a Fangrethday bad.

Killua released an overly dramatic moan.

He was on waiter duty today.

He pulled at the uncomfortable uniform. It wasn't a frilly maid's dress like the female version, but it was still frilly in its own right. The shirt was white and all ruffly. The pants were slacks, made of slippery black spidersilk. The worst part was not the uncomfortable shoes, but the suspenders. Killua absolutely detested suspenders. He didn't mind the bow tie. He liked bow ties. The bow tie also allowed him to keep his collar popped up and over his tattoos to hide them from sight.

Neck tattoos are the worst, stipid Illumi. If he weren't so perceptive I wouldn't have had to get wing sealing tattoos all over my fucking body.

Wing sealing tattoos were used by Valkyries to fully retract their wings. They consisted of winding filigree patterns of intertwining thrones, swirling from between the soldiers blades, over the spine, twisting around the hips, and up to the neck. They were easily recognizable, anyone with tattoos such as those was clearly a concealed Valkyrie. And a concealed Valkyrie meant a special mission. And that meant special attention. And that meant a hindrance to Killua's attempt at a normal life.

Killua pulled in annoyance at the ruffles on his sleeves. The black and white ensemble made him look professional, yes. But ruffles were the worst.

"Don't make that face, the ruffles match your hair," Morel teased.

Killua glared at him. "Shut up, old man."

Morel laughed good naturedly and ruffled his hair, Killua growled in a playful tone as his enormous hand rubbed violently through his hair. Before Killua could bring the roughhousing any further, Knov made his presence known with a clear of his throat.

Morel and Killua snapped to attention and gave him the most innocent faces they could muster. Knov rolled his dark colored eyes. He moved from where he had been leaning against the door frame to the back passage from the kitchens to his office, and approached his two most troublesome employees.

Knov was a human, a rare occurrence, however was a sorcerer well versed in his craft. He had opened the Clawthorne Inn and Tavern to make money and study the diverse cast of characters that showed up. He was an academic, with black framed glasses that he constantly was pushing up his nose in a haughty manner.

"Don't make me regret hiring you, Morel. Or you, Zoldyck."

Morel snorted and turned to his work cutting various vegetables.

Killua rocked back and forth on his heels with a cat-like expression on his face.

Knov was one of the few people Killua trusted with his secret: his homeland. Knov knew he was a Dragonite Valkyrie, and also that he was Killua Zoldyck, son of the Head of the Dragonite Valkyrie Clan. Knov knew of Killua's status as a runaway prince, and used his connections to keep people off Killua's back and help him stay hidden.

"Hey old man, can I have a raise?" he asked, as usual.

Knov gave him an annoyed look. Killua simply fell further into his cat face. "You ask me every time. And what do I tell you every time?"

"Only if I can get through a shift without any incidents."

"And what happens every shift?"

"Not every shift!"

"You ate a man's liver Lexterday night!"

"Touche."

"Now that the daily financial conversation is over, tuck in your shirt and get to work."

"Love you too, boss." Killua snickered as Knov walked back to his office shaking his head. He acted all macho and superior, but Killua knew that deep down the black haired man adored him~.

Killua tucked in his shirt as he had been told and ducked under the fabric curtain to start his shift (which had technically started 7 minutes earlier but he had been goofing off in the kitchen with Morel). He tightened his tail around his waist, curling it tighter around his midsection. His tail was long and black, with a pointed barb at the end. A perfect, royal blooded Dragonite Valkyrie's tail. Killua had pale skin (pale meant pale) and silvery white hair. His hair was fluffy and a constant rat's nest, there was no taming it. "Just like there is no taming his spirit," as Morel liked to quip. Killua had eyes of the deepest sapphire and thick, silvery eyelashes that matched the color of his hair. He had sharp incisors (which he hid with his mask) and precurliurly beautiful features (which he also hid with his mask). As a Valkyrie, he had pointed ears rather than rounded like a humans. They were longer than elves' ears, and extended out from his head "like a rabbit's, but horizontal and pressed backwards in the direction ears go," as Morel liked to say.

Killua had beaten him up many a time for that comparison.

Fighting with Morel was always fun. Killua was a trained royale Valkyrie, but Morel was a trained street fighting Goblin who was built like an ox. It was always a fun match.

Killua approached his first table of the shift. It was still mid afternoon, so the tavern was relatively empty, but there was always someone hanging around.

Little did Killua know, but this particular shift would start quite the interesting chain of events.

Night had fallen, and the tavern was relatively well inhabited for a Fangrethday. Still filled almost to the brim, but not as dead as during the day. The crowd was calm rather than akin to a rave, and the silver haired Valkyrie was quite pleased due to that fact. Killua was leaning against the bar, waiting for another table to fill up for him to serve.

"Would you go do your job already?" Palm prompted him.

Palm was blindly loyal to Knov (obsessed with him would be more accurate) and she would go to any length to get her coworkers in line. Because when the coworkers were in line, Knov was happy, and when Knov was happy she was happy.

Killua rolled his eyes. He supposed he could go check the level on the drinks of that group of pixies. "Yeah, yeah. I'm going ya old hag, just let me be."

He felt Palm's raging moonstone blue eyes against his back, and smirked like a cat.

Annoying people was so fun!

Killua fell into the rhythm of his job, almost like he was on autopilot. This life was simple and normal, everything he had ever dreamed of as a kid growing up on Kukuroo Mountain, the homeland of the Dragonite Valkyries. However, sometimes he couldn't help but feel… lonely. The sapphire eyed boy had just recently turned 18, and was the youngest humanoid in the Clawthorne at any given time.

He didn't really have any friends (Morel and Knov didn't count. And most CERTAINLY not Palm). This life was what he had been looking for, but he still had that creeping feeling that something more was out there.

He'd discussed the topic at length with Knov and Morel, and they had deduced that he was craving to explore the world. They told him that settling down like this wasn't for everyone, and that maybe adventure was what his young soul was craving. The overarching sense of aimlessness was something that Killua did not enjoy. Being uncomfortable in his own skin was bad enough, yet he kept wondering: "is this all that there is?"

Lost in thought, Killua made his way towards the front of the restaurant.

Suddenly a chill ran up his spine.

Killua passed a hooded figure. About his same height, just barely shorter with a muscular build, hidden underneath a thick tan cloak. The moment lasted a fraction of a second, but Killua's Valkyrie instincts said that this person was trouble. Why? Killua hadn't the faintest idea. There was just this… feeling of unease that they seemed to carry with them like a cloud. As if the air around them was slightly colder than the air everywhere else.

Killua cleared his head of this latest tangent and returned to his work at the pixies' table. Unseemly people were quite literally always at this inn. The Clawthoren was a traveler's refuge. Criminals and dangerous characters of all shapes and sizes were constantly coming in and out. Hell, Chimera Ants visited frequently, and if that didn't say something then nothing did.

Yeah, quit getting all jittery. I already read their presence, I should be able to beat them in a fight without any issues. If the situation arises I'll just fight them.

The shift continued like normal. Killua finished up with the pixies and then busied himself with a particularly needy group of dwarves. After about three quarters of an hour, Killua finally got a break in the constant madness that was working the tavern. He returned to the bar, thanking the stars that he wasn't stopped on the way there and asked to retrieve something from the kitchen or other.

Killua slipped behind the counter. Palm frowned at him, the large stone in her forehead reflecting the fairy lights and creating the appearance of dozens of fireflies swirling in the depths of her forehead… stone (or whatever the hell the thing was). Killua gave her a look. After a silent exchange of wills, Palm tossed a wet rag into his chest, and the Valkyrie male moved to clean the dirty shot glasses.

He approached the front and center of the bar as Palm took this chance to restock the various liquids on display across the intricate shelf behind the bar. Killua settled himself into an easy rhythm, moving from glass to glass. He allowed the simple task to lull him into a relaxed state. Working behind the bar was so much better than being on waiter or cleaning duty. Only problem was, no matter how much he begged and complained, Knov would not let him work behind the bar.

Cause he was "underaged."

Killua mentally rolled his eyes. Technically, for his clan at least, legal drinking age was 15. But Knov, ever the stickler to the rules, played by his native human customs. Absolutely no bartending for Killua until he was 21.

The silver haired humanoid glanced at the current inhabitants of said bar. Typical Fangrethday crowd, no one too interesting.

Oh. I take that back.

At the far end of the bar sat the hooded figure from earlier. Hunched over an untouched glass, they sat with a particularly ominous air about them. Their face was entirely shrouded.

I didn't notice them at all. Who is this person?

Killua had to admit that he was a little ticked off. His training was flawless, he had absolutely no doubt that he was the most powerful humanoid in this establishment (give or take Knov and his sorcery, but in raw fighting strength he had even Morel beat). Yet why had he been unable to sense this newcomer? Travelers were not uncommon, and the sapphire eyed young man had seen his fair share of unseemly characters. But none of this strange caliber.

It wasn't that this person was stronger than him, it was that he was such an unknown. An uncomfortable chill reverberated through Killua's mind. He shoved the feeling down, and sniffed the air. Valkyries had incredible senses, especially Dragonite Valkyries (being the most powerful sub-species).

Ignoring the scents of all the other humanoids, the stinging sensation of alcohol, the food from the back, Palm's whimsical perfume, and the filth on the floor in the corner, Killua honed in on scents coming from the stranger's direction.

Damn. Nothing.

Killua swallowed a scoff, not wanting to upset the Gargoyle sitting directly in front of him. This stranger was seriously pissing him off.

My assessment so far is that they are some sort of high ranking humanoid, but most likely a unique hybrid. The population around these parts is majority half-breeds and mixed bloods, so there is absolutely no sure fire way to tell what blood runs through this person's veins. But from the strange aura around them, they must have some interesting blood mixed in there. They're keeping their face hidden, so they clearly have something to hide. Not to mention the fact that their scent is concealed. That's the only likely explanation. Some humanoids don't give off a scent, like Vampires and some subspecies of elves, but my guess is that the cloak has some sort of enchanting quality to conceal one's presence.

Killua glanced at the stranger out of the corner of his eye, once again finding nothing under that hood but darkness. His Valkyrie eyes were rendered useless.

It's definitely an enchanted cloak.

Killua sighed through his nose, suppressing his bloodlust. He was trained to do so, Valkyrie bloodlust was particularly potent. He continued cleaning the shot glasses and tried to keep the hooded figure from driving him too crazy.

Ten quiet minutes passed before a sudden zing went up Killua's spine.

Coming from the front.

A commotion erupted a split second after Killua completed that thought. "YOU!" cried out a booming voice. Killua stiffened, battle readiness slipping into his veins like food coloring to clear spring water. The silver haired Valkyrie smirked underneath his mask.

I've been waiting for a bar fight, this job gets so boring.