Being death wasn't exactly easy, but with arrogant cats with too many lives, and beings who just don't die, and much more annoyances that come with the job. The dim lighting of the bar cast long shadows across the wooden tables, while the distant chatter of patrons mixed with the clink of glasses created a subdued soundtrack to his frustration.

But the biggest annoyance was life herself. Of course she came into many forms, all designed to annoy him. The bartender moved methodically through the small crowd, while the air hung heavy with a dank, dark scent of gloom, and maybe a dabble of depression that clung to the walls.

His tail flicked casually slowly as he stared at the cup. Life - or whatever name she was using today - had made another appearance in mortal form. Death had many names but it always ended with death. His paws tightened around the ceramic cup as a previously unassuming flower in a base nearby suddenly bloomed, its petals unfurling dramatically just as the woman walked through the door.

He was pissed. The memory of Puss in Boots still fresh in his mind - the cat who had gone back on his words, escaping his fate. That alone was enough to sour his mood, but her interference in fate had made it infinitely worse.

He shifted in his seat as his tail swayed a little more firmly. "God woman.. ¿Te atreverás a mostrar tu cara después de esa acrobacia? Or is that all!" He scoffed, the sound sharp in the quiet bar. "Or did you come to rub my failed plans in my face? It's been a long time since you've even been down here but it's clear you still care to meddle with everything I do." He set the cup down with a sharp clink that echoed across the room - a clear show of his displeasure.

He turned his head slightly past his shoulder to stare at her, golden eyes narrowing as she stood there examining him just as he examined her, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.