Alone she sits, drink in hand, this woman with the look upon her face as if she's thinking life has no meaning. Which for her, it doesn't. In fact, she should have been dead long before now. But that's her problem ... Not being dead I mean. She can't break the curse set upon her. And so, she drinks. Zariah drinks to forget, to numb her mind of all feeling and thought and not remember. Pain, loss, death or rather not receiving death. These are the thoughts that plauge her mind, the thoughts that keep her from sleep night after night. Memories. She wishes to forget them.

Except, things aren't that easy; never are. It was so late by now, and she'd ordered so many, that Zariah can't remember how many drinks she's had in this single night. She ignores the stares she keeps getting from people, mainly men, sitting nearby. Any normal woman would be far too drunk by now to even remember her name. But Zariah is not in the least bit ordinary. Part of her dares someone to try something, anything, just so Zariah can draw the knife from her pocket and let out a warning. A warning that few who cross this woman, leave in one piece.

But for now she continues to drink, in solitude and silence. Not caring what the opinions of others may be, and not even wanting to know. Zariah doesn't really want to know anything anymore.

A woman in her mid- to late twenties stepped into the room, looking far too, well, classy for a place like this. Her wine-colored dress had the look of the custom-made outfits seen at awards shows. That wasn't to say the she, herself, was out of place. Despite her starlet-style getup, she gave the impression of being a regular at the bar. Which was unusual, seeing as no one had ever seen her there before.

Faustine took a seat two spaces to Zariah's left, moving swiftly without being in a hurry. She tossed her blond, curly hair over her shoulder and adjusted her sunglasses, then leaned on the counter and signalled to the bartender. She had on a slight 'everything's coming up roses' smile, bringing up the question of what she was doing in a bar in the first place.

"Lovely evening," she said to the bartender, as he slid her drink towards her. Faustine, sipping her drink, eyed Zariah. A perk of sunglasses was, besides hiding the pure-black eyes that marked her as a deity, that you could stare at people and they didn't know. An amused smirk turned up the corners of her crimson lips. "And is it a lovely evening for you too, darling?" she asked Zariah, seemingly oblivious to her hostile mood.

Oh, Faustine knew perfectly well it wasn't a lovely evening for Zariah. But she liked to ask anyway.

Zariah had only glanced at the door for an instant when the other entered. Then her gaze was quickly back in front of her; staring at the glass in her hand. She ignored the comment made about it beign a lovely evening. What was the difference between this evening and any other? None ... as far as Zariah could tell. A moment later, she finished her drink, and after staring at her empty glass she pushed it across the bar, requesting another.

Zariah idly bit her lip, waiting for her next drink to be poured. It soon was, and Zariah quickly took it and drank. She looked over the edge of her glass at the re-asking of how the evening was; this time the question being directed towards her.

"Yeah. Just wonderful."

Half sarcasim, mostly apathy. Zariah did not care one way or the other about the evening. Obviously.

"Really? Doesn't sound like it, luv," Faustine said, running a fingertip lightly round the rim of her glass. "You don't look all that well, if you'll pardon my noticing. What is it? Boy troubles? ... Money troubles? ....Girl troubles?"

Zariah wasn't trying to sound like it. She put her glass down; leaned back in her chair somewhat.
"Life troubles."
Stated simply, as she raised her glass to drink agian.

"Ah. Life. That bad?" she smiled. Despite the friendly tone she was using, it didn't really sound like she cared. Passing the time by chatting to a depressed girl in a bar - that was certainly Faustine's thing to do when she was bored. It pleased her to know that she could help, but wouldn't. "And what's at the root of your life problems? Simply that you were born? Because I've met plenty of people who regret their birth... they all found a solution to that in the end, of course."

Zariah glanced over the edge of her glass again. Though she was merely human, Zariah got the feeling that there was something .... different about the woman speaking to her. But she also wondered why someone would be so interested in her; would actually want to converse with Zariah.
"Worse."
Zariah knew the other didn't really cared. Probably only cared as much as Zariah herself would've cared about anyone else's problems. 'All found a solution to that in the end.' Zariah had to refrain from cracking a smirk at that. For her, there was no end. Yes, there was pain; there was darkness, but there was no end. And the root of her life's problems?
"The past."
And the fact that she couldn't die, though she didn't mention that.

"What very... all-encompassing problems," Faustine mused. She patted Zariah on the shoulder. "But look at it this way. No matter how bad you think things are - they can always be far, far worse."

Zariah ignored the hand patting her shoulder, though Zariah was anti-social and didn't like anyone touching her. She decided she didn't want to bother wasting the energy shoving it away.
"Yes. All-encompassing."
Things could always get worse, huh ... Zariah didn't see how they could. however she didn't ask that cliche' of 'how could things get any worse?'. Because she knew that if one asked that, then things eventually tends to get worse.
"Yeah ... whatever."

"No, really," Faustine smirked, "I'm serious. For example- one of the gas jets on the burners, out back, could have been left on. Then, when someone goes to turn up the flame, it all goes up in an enormous explosion. Everyone dies or is horribly maimed. See? And there could be worse things than that..."

Zariah shrugged. She didn't really care if something like that did happen. She didn't know any of the people here, and she would've gotten out of it none-the-worse for wear. Though, you probably wouldn't think that possible.
"Yeah, well. That would've been something interesting to see."