Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Alexandria, Egypt

"...That she does." He had to concur, letting that feline grin crack his stony facade. Her confusion drew a lone visible eye to trail her up and down. Rather than prodding at it, he considered. "...Perhaps in a few days. It can't be too long until the moon hides again, and I find that you to be pleasant company. Via and Populus either bicker too much or..." He paused, staring ahead. Let's not break anyone's vision of anyone just yet. "...end up distracted." He murmered hollowly.

"...You'll find me about when the moon goes dark." Came vague promise, and with that he was meandering out of the barn towards the bar.

Philomela didn't get what was so funny about her goat rolling around in the stall. She'd smile a little when Ash called her pleasant company, "I would be honored to keep you company on that night Lord Pan." She'll watch him go, and then she'll be settling down to snuggle with her goat. Hopefully things would be clearer to her in the morning. She was still fairly confused about the Hermes and Apollo situation.

"...Now, now. Don't go turning into a pan girl." He teased, though the comment may have gone right over her head. With that, he departed. It would be a few days, at least, until he was heard from again. Via, also, was busy to the south of Alexandria. Philomela and Draeval would have some time to themselves.

Draeval had been at the library, but then he'd been at a whole different library, and then a lab. His switching around was becoming far to complicated even for him. And it was taking it's toll, in the past day he'd gone from energetic to quiet and reserved. He looked like he'd aged five years just by being there, dark circles had formed under his eyes and he looked like he'd lost weight.

He was learning a lot thank goodness, but that was about as far as it was going. And since that second day with the trio he'd been working hard to avoid them again. He felt like his being stuck was a by-product of creating too many ripples. If he kept his head down and kept out of sight, he'd probably be okay. Right?

That was his theory anyway, but for now he was returning to the inn for the first time in the last few days. He had been "gone" but he hadn't left yet, there was a journal tucked under his arm. Though it probably looked like an odd leather tablet to the locals. He hadn't put it up because he was using it and he wasn't thinking that it might not look normal. But besides all that he was heading for the barn, he was worn out and he figured it was just as well that he hide there than out in the dunes for another night.

(Since nobody's been posting for a few days and I have a rare opportunity online as life becomes increasingly hectic, I think I'll have that few days pass; if somebody has a problem with it feel free to ignore it.)

It was night when the elder figure leaned against the crooked doorpost of the stable, a dark glass tankard in one hand. The stared dully forward with his unpatched eye, as if lost to the world. Perhaps it had to do with the slight wobble to him when he pressed off from it. Perhaps it's why he steadied himself as he walked into the beaten building with a hand brushing against the closed doors. His strut was awkward, slightly lurching, and leaning forward in a way that might make most men think his knees were due to betray him. He nearly tripped over a rogue chicken. To many, he'd look like a drunk, haggard fool.

Of course, if Philomela were there, she might know better. Well, it wasn't entirely wrong, but she'd understand why when he meandered towards the stall she typically inhabited, it didn't seem like he noticed much of anything. That is, if she was even there, in the moment. He settled with oddly crossed legs. With knees bent, his ankles hooked together--too high up to justify where his feet had been propping him up. He'd wait for any sign of her by someone speaking. Until then, he was content to be silent and rely on his drink.

Philomela was indeed in the stables in the typical stall she usually kept herself in. She'd had a few days to think on things, and she'd come up with her own solution to her dilemma. She'd probably been scouting around town, making sure that Hermes hadn't left yet, but other than that she'd been mostly keeping to herself. She's humming quietly and stroking Namine when Ash surprises her by heading into the barn.

She knows the reason for his...awkward walking and she'll step out of her stall, "Let me assist you Lord Pan." If he would let her, she would help get him seated so he didn't squish any more chickens or beat his shins against anything. She would settle in across from him, "Has the new moon come so quickly?" She seemed to be speaking more to herself than to him, though she does direct, "I seem to have lost count of the days." at him.

"How have you been these past few days?"

Namine was thrilled when Ash came into the barn, and she'd bleat her excitement. As soon as he sat down, Namine was there at his side, curling up against him, practically begging to be petted. Hopefully he could find her well enough in the dark because she seemed pretty content to lay squished against his side.

Being fawned over wasn't particularly his style. Not like that, at least. When she drew near to help, he absently batted away her hand, only to slump into his position. He second-guessed his bullheadedness when he realized he had just lost his potential at that hand. Grunt. "...It does come about once a month." He dismissed in his idea of humor. "Ah, someone feels warm." He credited the goat, stroking a hand up her back until he found the back of the head, scritching near the ears.

"Mm. Come near." He called to Philomela, seeing as she hadn't taken a particular seat. He held out a hand, gesturing her in with a repeat roll of the wrist before extending it palm up as if to encourage her own. And, given half the chance, he was about to tug her into his lap. "Where is your odd-spoken friend?"

Philomela had shrunk away from him when he batted her away, so it's going to take her a moment before she'll put her hand in his. She'd give a gasp when she's tugged into his lap, "Lord Pan, you're being...very forward tonight." He couldn't see it, but she was blushing. She'd try and glance around as best she could, "Ah...he was around a moment ago. Perhaps he stepped out for some air." She didn't know, she'd been sort of lost in her own little world. She'd shift a bit, not used to sitting in a person's lap. "Shall I sing you a song then?" It was what she'd done the last time he'd been this way, and he'd seemed to enjoy it well enough.

Namine would "Naaah!" At his words, and snuggle more against his side as he rubbed her ears just where she liked. She would be content to stay where she was, unless he made her move. She's comfortable, and she'd found some hay to chew on, life was pretty good for Namine right now.

Odd spoken friend indeed, but one who was assimilating well. He'd started to keep his tongue in check, though it seemed that he was ill in some way. He had taken very quickly to their life, speaking Greek and a little Egyptian on the fly. He visited the markets, went to the library, even seemed to have made several friends in his search to not look abnormal. His language, though still tinted with his typical dialect seemed to be "clearing up". As much as it ever could for Draeval anyway, but he looked worn. His appearance had changed, growing wild hair, getting scruffy facial hair, his lips were drawn tight, his cheeks were hollowed a bit, and he seemed to rarely eat or drink. Or if he did he seemed to be unable to hold it down.

He'd been out, again, but he was already tired and so decided to return to the barn. He'd stroll in with his normal swagger, albeit a little dim. He had something tucked under his arm, he'd been growing quite the collection of things since he'd joined them. He gave a stretched smile to the three of them, "Ah, hello dare. Dun mean ta interrupt. I'll uh, juz put diz down and head ta da tabern." Much clearer in Greek, but still not quite normal. So yes, he was still the odd spoken friend.

"No. You simply become all too comfortable in my crude attempt at being gentlemanly." He countered, though save for dragging her where she was, he made no particular move at anything other than his bottle. It's not exactly as if he could oggle her. He could ask someone else who didn't look to be present to look through say, Namine's eyes, but even that wasn't worth the trouble most of the time. The goat was more likely staring at something else. Like her mulch, and the same to be said of whatever other animals shuffled around.

It was probably why he hadn't heard Draeval coming. He turned vaguely in Draeval's direction by sound's cue, but didn't quite lock eyes on him--or anywhere close for that matter.

"No trouble, Draebal. I could always find my way out. You came for a reason... and I doubt it's me." The eyes wandered generally down and side to where he imagined Philomela to be, considering the tug. The original arm that pulled her to him reached up until it brushed the side of her head. Right. She's leaning to that side, he confirmed with his heat-radiating gloved hand. He began to shift as if to find his feet under him--which were indeed acrossed oddly, because he was more crossing his hooves beneath him. Next would be moving her from his lap by sliding away to prepare to rise and see himself out. Or... not see... himself out.

Philomela is confused by his statement, "What?" She'd nod at Draeval when he came in, "Hello Draebal. You're not really interrupting. Lord Pan just came for a visit." Like he said he would a few days ago. Still, Ash seems to want her off his lap, so she'll oblige him by helping to climb off. She'll brush they hay off herself, and when Pan says that he's going, she seems disappointed. "You're leaving already? But you just got here..." She's not going to force him to stay, but it doesn't seem as if she wants him to go.

She'd look over at Draeval, "You could join us if you'd like...but there isn't much room in the stall." Her eyes stray back towards Ash, "Besides...I thought you liked company on...these nights." Or at least that's what she'd believed the last time she'd seen him this way.

Namine didn't like Ash shifting about, and she'd bleat before grabbing whatever bit of clothing she could to try and keep him seated there. He's probably just going to pull her up if he stands, she may be a gifted goat, but one of her gifts is not super strength.

He didn't necessarily want her off his lap. That was one of the best places to keep a woman. He was, however, standing to go. He wasn't ever permanently blind, and knew her voice and position enough to focus an unseeing eye on her by habit as he stood well overhead. "Well, there might be enough... if we returned to our last position." He hinted, leaning against the wall as if uncertain wether to reclaim his seat or go. "I do. It keeps the mind grounded. I do not, however, intend to be in the way." That and perhaps he didn't so much care to be judged again.

Blinked, "I didn't mean to make you move Lord. I just didn't wish to interrupt." He blinked again, "You do not look so well..." He bit his lip, Draeval really had gotten better since he'd shown up here. At least he was being more polite. He rubbed the back of his neck before settling down in the stall he'd been living in since he arrived.

He looked over towards Philomela and smiled, "Well if you two don't mind the company, I'll remain. And do my best to not speak too much." He watched Ash and frowned, "Please, if you need grounding do not let me disturb you. I can go, I do not wish to deny you." Yes much had changed, and he was trying. Plus he was taking Cat's advice, perhaps if he associated more with those from his timeline he could sever the tether he had to this one.

Philomela was blushing again, "If you want to." She's kind of oblivious to why Pan would even want her sitting in his lap, "Aren't I a bit heavy though?" She's definitely no delicate flower, she's got some meat on her bones. "I just thought you might want company like you did before...but...if you'd rather be left alone..." She can't keep the disappointment out of her voice though, it wasn't as if she had many friends in Alexandria herself.

"I...um...had some thoughts about the situation I...wanted to talk about with you anyway. If you have time Lord." She had been pondering over it for awhile, and she'd come up with a sort of solution.

Namine would bleat again, and she'd tug on Pan's clothes once more. Don't go!

"No. You aren't. It's comfortable with you there." He ascertained. He was more likely to accidentally crush her. He settled into his awkward leg tangle, encouraging her back into her former position. As for Draeval, he generally settled his gaze towards his voice--well, the unpatched eye. "Save for walking into an occasional wall, I'm fine." Perhaps a little... drunk. Or blame it on dialect. The bottle next to where he settled was the more likely culprit. "I told you I'd come for the company. Don't misunderstand." He pulled on his dark-glassed mini-jug of a bottle with remarkable memory, however. "Care for a drink?" He held the bottle in what he imagined was Philomela's view. It shouldn't be too hard to find. She was on him and he knew well enough by routine alone. "Thoughts?"

Draeval frowned and played with his clothes, another one of his nervous habits. "Mmm, walking into walls is never fun." Draeval sighed, "Lord I did not misunderstand, but I am an outsider. Interrupting friendly conversation was not my intention."

He looked back down at his clothes then rotated face the things in his stall. He wouldn't interrupt, and he felt like he would at least let them have their peace. Meanwhile he'd simply pull out his wedding ring, he'd been stashing it so it wouldn't be stolen. But perhaps Mela had seen him play with it at night before, whenever he was here he was always holding it.

Philomela blushed, "If you say so." She didn't see how, but far be it from her to argue with him. She's settled herself again when he made room, and when he offered her the drink she shook her head, "No thank you Lord."

He asks about her thoughts, and she'd wait for Draeval to finish speaking, "You aren't interrupting." She didn't care if he heard this or not, and it wasn't like she and Ash had been busy doing anything really.

"Well...yes." She'd pick at her clothes, "Would you say...that...perhaps...Lord Hermes' lifestyle leads him to having a fair amount of...enemies?" She sounds a bit unsure herself, but her idea hinged on that fact.

Namine would settle back against Pan when he sat, and she'd snort at him, before going to nibble hay again.