(First) RP between Degu, Emroidz, Rook and Rigby
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Emroidz — 09/13/2020
One step forward, two steps back. Moving from Belsthame to Hy-Brazir had been taken a serious shot to Roylen’s ego and had taken a hot minute (pun intended) to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t Lord Culver anymore.
But unexpected windfall had met serendipitous passion when the satyr demon came across that herd of wooly cows in the woods behind their new home. He’d put in the work, and when calving season came along and they successfully birthed the first, domesticated generation, he thought he’d found the niche that would bring him and his family success.
But the calves, each and every one of them, had been stolen. He’d looked everywhere. There had been no post out of place, no stampeding mothers with nursing babes hungry at their heels. After a fruitless search, he’d simply told Ganu that he was going out, that he needed a drink and time to clear his head.
By the time Roylen reached the tavern, however, he was feeling rather hopeless about the whole thing. How was he to support his family now? The locals hadn’t exactly warmed up to their clan moving in, but...if anywhere might turn up some ideas and opportunities, it HAD to be this sort of watering hole, right? Look and listen, Roylen.
Degu — 09/13/2020
The tavern was bustling as it often was that time of the evening, filled with average customers and guards alike. This evening it was particularly dominated by rowdy guards fresh off their shifts, still wearing their armour. You could smell them, really, an oppressive layer of sweat stank permeated heavily throughout the building.
A bard played a casual tune in the corner with a tankard filled with coins at his side. Decorations hung from the rafters and the stone floor was dotted with splashes of beer here and there.
The groups of guards seemed spread across different tables, mostly all eating and laughing about their stories of the day behind them. One didn't, though. A huge fellow sat at the bar brooding in his armour. His helmet and gauntlets were rested on the bar beside him, a large tankard of ale and a plate of mostly meat sat in front of him.
He tore at the turkey leg clenched tightly in his fist, biting huge hunks of it off rather angrily indeed. His hair was black and cut short, eyes a piercing steel blue that glared directly through the bottles on the other side of the bar.
Rigby — 09/13/2020
The lanky butcher and businessman was next into the tavern. And it reeked, but reeked in a way he'd liked to have hoped overpowered his own after-hours scent: blood, sweat and the sligher hints of a stranger musk masked by valerian and cloves.
Or maybe he was just that sensitive to these things and nobody else really picked up them all that much, and he'd forgotten any other way to process it all.
Not that it mattered for so long - as he'd be smelling a lot of malt pretty quickly.
He slid into a seat at the bar, right next to the brooding guy. The fellows were big, Arron was six and a half feet tall and all-limbs, towering in an altogether different way.
Should Joan's deal close, re-upping their own between respective establishments was next on deck. Which...if the customers were ordering plates that were anything like what that nearby guard was working on, was certainly something to look forward to.
Whether he'd been targeted or it was just the nearest empty seat to the drinks wasn't immediately apparent, but after ordering a drink and a platter of his own, Arron turned to properly look at the guy, eyes sliding from the dangerous-looking brooding to the dangerous-looking armor and dangerous-looking tankard, and the way he was tearing dangerously into the turkey. And grinned.
"Well good evening, sir!"
Roylen's wooly cows were off-limits. Arron even withheld any gentle ribbing about pets and 'specials' this time (though he was tempted ...though could one imagine getting through all that fur-!), and the poor former-Lord's plight was as-yet unknown to him. He'd lift a hand in greeting, though at another glance, tilted his head, almost miming a question in his eyes and accentuating it with the lifted hand, stopped just short from waving him over JUST yet...Arron could poke several bears all day, but if the mood was anything to go by, he wasn't about to throw an unsuspecting Roy right into this strange guy's path!
Emroidz — 09/14/2020
Hey Arron, ask Roylen what his boys thought he had named the first cow they found there in the woods. (Spoiler alert: it was “you fucking cunt” when she gored him while he was trying to help her free from where her dumb, fat ass had gotten stuck between two trunks.) Yeah, there was no love lost between him and the herd except the financial viability that came with their survival, a sentiment—or lack thereof—surely a butcher of all people could understand.
But the Were need not lead the demon into a social fray, he entreated upon it willingly when he ponied you to the bar then next. “One of those,” the satyr said, gesturing first to the turkey leg to sourpuss of a knight was currently hamfisting. “And one of those,” Roy added, gesturing to Arron’s fresh and heady tankard. He sighed, seeming keen on the idea that filling his belly would stem all the doom and gloom swirling round and round in his head.
Whether it rightly occurred to Roylen or not, Arron might be more welcome here than he was at present, given that HIS physical predisposition was more than a hair more obvious (and not one that could be covered by that daily flea dip in valerian and cloves). The fire imp’s flesh was an angry red, vented not unlike the creeping, bright under glow of yellowed magma as it seeped from volcanic pores. From the loose hanging, flour sack fabric of his open-chested tunic, one could see the peaks and valleys of those armored, mountainous ridges extend in range from shoulder caps to collar bones. And yes, the curtains likely matched the drapes, considering he was the burly sort with salt and pepper as much through his chest hair and wooly lower half (how cute, a farmer who matched his cows!) as he had through that thick, slicked back comb of hair.
Degu — 09/14/2020
Harpur was cagy. One could quite easily tell the guard didn't have a lot of trust for the citizens of the town, and was it surprising when so few were what they appeared on the surface? When Arron sat down beside him his lip curled up in a sneer before tearing another strip of turkey from the bone. He chewed and eyed the man up and down at his greeting. Human? was he human? ... seemed it on the surface.
"Evenin'" he growled, voice deep and gravelly. As he turned to look at Arron, the burn on the right-hand side of his face would become more than apparent, though it seemed old now. It partially cut into his hairline but it seemed he'd gotten lucky or perhaps sought out potions to at least restore some lost hair.
His attention turned away when he heard hooves, already sneering if only because he knew someone hadn't let their pet goat into the tavern.... it was always a person in this place, never an animal (though he'd beg to differ).
His steely eyes quickly fixed Roylen with a piercing stare as he pointed at what he was eating and demanded one from the bar keep, growling deeply "They'll let anything into the city these days. Even demon-spawn." Imp, demon, devil, all were getting the same umbrella term from this fellow. "And every time I'm part of the clean up crew, helping put out the fires and pick up the bodies. So when are you going to snap and burn us all, demon-spawn?" oof, friendly, wasn't he?
Rook — 09/14/2020
The smell wasn't great, but atleast it wasn't something that burned his senses as some did. Quinne hadn't been much of a regular yet, but he wanted to wander while the boys were all tucked into bed. For the sake of Zaff, though, he had considered hiring help for the house so she wouldn't have to sit and remain incase the scaly trio woke up at any time during the night.
"Good evening." The vampire greeted, looking from Arron to Roylen and he smiled faintly. "How is-." The question was about to be directed towards the demonic Lord, but he paused at the sudden bit of racism and he stared at Harpur momentarily. Ah. Humans, of course. Just when he hoped that nonsense was behind them after leaving Belsthame.
"How is everything going? I haven't had a chance to visit with settling into the new house, but I should soon. I've not seen Ganu in a while."
Rigby — 09/16/2020
Arron did angle his head slightly, regarding the big guard's burn curiously. (...though he couldn't talk; his own glamoured ring still hid the worst of his own burns, made old, stretched and faded by constant shifting)
There was the slightest tensing of Arron's jaw at Harpur's next remark. Whether human racism or racism against supernaturals, he'd heard enough of it. Not, mind, in a water-off-a-duck's-back way, but he'd been beaten down enough over the years that he'd just expected it.
Yet it was a bit different when it was aimed at someone other than himself.
To the guard, an attempt to defuse. "'Clean-up crew?'" Another head-tilt. "I doubt he will snap, that is not a particular hobby of his. Nor productive, I imagine, heh!"
"Still, master Roylen...bad day?" He eyed the drink. "Been a bit lax in keeping up, myself, settling in to do, children to wrangle, shops to establish, I am truly sorry - but oh, Master Quinne, hello! Come join if you like, seems we are already off to a strong start!" He gestured to their steadily-accumulating tankards and waved his with a grin.
Any underlying tension - should he jump in and have to prevent one big fellow from killing the other - was expertly masked, for now. One move would probably be bad PR, but the other way around was something he was especially ready to stifle after their stint in Belsthame.
Emroidz — 09/17/2020
Roylen Culver had a temper: always had, always would. Between his fire element and his demon blood, a short fuse was pretty much a given. How fortunate it was that he’d met Ganu when he did, or else everything Harpur was saying now might eventually end up a sort of...self fulfilling prophecy. He was better now. He knew how to control himself.
“Only thing I roast these days is the most delicious bogswallow boar. My boy‘s gotten to be quite the hunter in our short time here. Ever had spit-fired, suckling pig, soldier?” Roy asked Harp, feigning curiosity for the sake of a CHANCE at a peaceful first impression with the locals and tavern regulars.
...but Quinne and Arron both would UNDOUBTEDLY see that Roylen had LITERALLY used up EVERY ounce of decorum he had to his name and good-nature (on loan from Ganu rather than something he possessed innately) in a single sentiment.
If Quinne was looking for help, Roylen could certainly recommend Tilly (NPC). It hurt his heart that he no longer possessed an estate large enough to keep her employed, especially after she had agreed to come with him and emigrated from her home in Belsthame. She was human, but her husband was a fishfolk, and you’d find no harder worker nor better ally to their magickin that had all come over to Hy-Brazir together. “Pretty much the same as our friend here described: settling in, wrangling children—teenager boys no less—and trying to figure out what the hell I’m good for. That last one’s been a task and a half, I’ll tell you that much: Ganu’s back from the plane, you know, and with the calves gone missing from my herd, can’t say I’m much good except for maybe an out-of-practice sell sword these days.” He’d been a military man in Belsthame, after all, and while it wasn’t necessarily a past he was proud of, it was a marketable skill nonetheless. Regardless, it was clear Roy had been put through the ringer already just trying to plant some roots here.
Degu — 09/17/2020
Harpur's lip peeled back irritably as he felt swarmed. It'd become a bit of a thing so he was reactive. Ballsy, cocky supernaturals these days liked to aaaall sit down near him at the bar sometimes just to annoy him. They knew he couldn't do a whole lot. The guard looked over at his comrades sitting nearby to check they were still there and then huffed, eyes wheeling between each of the newcomers near him, fixing Quinne with a stare as he looked the younger man up and down as if scanning him. These people seemed human at a glance but they associated with one who clearly wasn't.
Arron's rambling was met with a derisive grunt "They all do eventually. Fireborns always snap." and as said fireborn asked if he'd enjoyed a spitroasted suckling pig he leaned towards him with a cold grin "I think I prefer goat" grin became smirk as he glanced down at Roy's legs before ripping the last piece of turkey from the bone between his teeth.
He listened in on the conversation. Ganu? missing calves... the plane? someone had left this plane of existence? his skin crawled and his fingers longed for his blade.
He snorted "You? with a sword? Don't make me laugh Demon." he chuckled darkly. The bait was only too obvious. Harpur cast it and didn't even bother to look at Roy as he waited for the man to take it. He was looking between Quinne and Arron who were the only two not obvious, there had to be something strange about them, right? he took in a deep whiff of them, caring very little if they noticed him smelling them. Raw meat...he'd recognise that smell anywhere at least.
Rook — 09/17/2020
"A wine sounds nice, maybe just a red tonight." Harpur was staring at them and grumbling about Roylen's nature, so he decided to avoid going for a bloodwine. If he needed, he'd just visit Rufio for a fresh bottle later. Tilly would certainly be someone he'd hire, given how good she was with children!
"Do you want to work out next week's schedule for the shop soon, Arron?" Give the other man a break from it was his intention. "Missing...? I don't have a lot of people in my employ yet, but perhaps I can look around and find them. I'm a really good tracker." And if need be, he had friends who could help. "I'm sorry, it's tough getting used to a new place and lifestyle." The vampire offered sympathetically, offering a couple shards to the bartender for his choice of drink. "It is great to see you both."
Harpur continued to show his distaste and while Quinne had noted the sniffing, he said nothing of it. It might difficult for the man to pick up the unnatural smell, but there were still hints of horse and faint cologne lingering on him in an attempt to mask it from people who could. "Do you need someone to hug you? Is that why you're acting like this?"
Rigby — 09/21/2020
There was a method to using patter to de-fuse, and Arron had plenty of patter. Blessedly, Roylen kept his next response in check, too.
"Calves are missing?" Arron frowned. He wouldn't admit aloud worry about his own stock first after that, but Roylen was people, and it was a shit spot to be in. "...I would like a look later, if you will have me," dipped into a bit of a murmur for the demon alone. And Quinne chimed in and Arron beamed, gesturing between the both of them. Yeah. He'll help out. Get a Quinne and his own sniffer on it.
But he felt himself bristle a bit, breath sharply catching despite the control he'd often exercised as the big man appeared to give Quinne the once-over - and then smell them both. ('Pardon me, sir, I did just get off of work. Is not the most glamorous of jobs. Or...fragrant.') Or too-fragrant, depending on one's outlook. "Master Quinne has the rather enviable position of the pair of us to not have been buried elbow-deep in a cow's entrails at any point today!" he'd added with a grin.
"They snap, mmm?" He'd added with a rather unnervingly even tone. "I suppose until then, I plan to enjoy happy hour with him."
Emroidz — 09/21/2020
“You know, I thought you looked like a man who’s enjoyed more than a few goats in his lifetime.” Wait...did he...was he...squint.
Yes. Roylen had just called Harpur, in not so many words, a goat fucker, and he managed to do with the most cheery and sociable disposition possible. Service with a smile! Ganu would be so proud...
...okay, maybe not. But the demon could only take so much racist bullshit after reforming his own narrow-minded ways! To make matters worse Harpur’s prejudices had manifested far more physically as he grew beyond just outspoken, but brazen as well with that presumptive sniff.
Hell no. Culver decided he didn’t want the attention off of him like he first though he did, not if it meant Arron and Quinne both getting the unfair shake he’d been given from the get go due to something as simple as a clove-footed approach. The solution was simple enough, however: “Draw yours against me then, soldier,” the demon insisted, still even-toned and tempered and not sinking so low as to refer to him with the same CONTEMPTUOUS use of the word human, as though it were repugnant at a vocabulary level. The challenge, by all accounts, was respectful, from one military man to another.
But...something said that wasn’t a mutual feeling when ACTUAL weapons were to be involved, ESPECIALLY with Harpur having said it was only a matter of time before he snapped and that, essentially, he’d be doing to world a favor to prevent that.
Degu — 09/22/2020
Harpur's attention was torn between the three men. His eyes lingered for a time on Quinne's chest but before he could respond he'd been hit with a rather quick comeback from Roylen. Of course.... Harpur wasn't actually the smartest man in the world so he did nothing for a moment, glaring at the other two .... and then it clicked.
Wait. The demon had meant..-
Immediately his huge body wheeled around, his barstool flying out from under him. He shoved his huge form up into Roylen's face, forehead to forehead with him in an attempt to intimidate him but also in challenge. "The fuck did you call me, demon?" he growled through his teeth. The music stopped and the guards nearby were all on their feet ...but they weren't worried about Roy, they were worried about maybe trying to stop Harpur from taking things too far.
He narrowed his eyes, snorting in disgust "Gladly, fiend. Outside in the courtyard, now." he shoved at Roy before turning to stomp outside with bared teeth, calling back to Quinne "Why don't you save that hug, undead?" Oh he'd noticed alright "Your precious friend here will need it when I leave him crying on the cobbles." he said venomously, rage barely restrained at the prior insult.
When Harpur stepped outside he drew the broadsword from his back and held it in both hands, dark eyes waiting with far too much hatred in them for anyone to expect him not to try to make a death blow. The guards seemed to be mixed in their responses as some of them took their drinks and headed outside to watch the duel. Some sighed, some sounded giddy... clearly there wasn't anyone who outranked Harpur nearby to tell him to get the fuck back to the barracks and cut this shit out.
Rook — 09/22/2020
Unfortunately, any planning to help Roylen's calves would have to wait. Insults flung back and forth, though the vampire seemed bored when Harpur mentioned his affliction. "Congratulations, you can pick up on things. That might be the smartest thing you've done tonight." He'd accepted his glass of wine, and while appreciative of Roylen drawing attention away, he was also against it.
"Don't give him what he wants, he might twist it around and have the rest of those who think the same way see you as the aggressor."
He wasn't sure if Roylen was interested in listening to reason after that display, but the vampire would still make an effort. "He's just some drunk on a power trip, afterall." People seemed to want the fight, and he'd stick alongside Roylen even if he went outside. A quick glance was offered Arron's way, and Quinne looked exasperated.
Even away from Belsthame, there'd always be someone.
Rigby — 09/22/2020
The music stopped and in that brief pause of tavern-wide stunned silence, the sound of Arron's forehead hitting the counter and his looooong sigh might've been heard.
He'd looked up again, dragging a hand across his face and meeting Quinne's exasperated look with one of his own. He downed the rest of his drink with a speed that would've probably taken out any other spindly giant and rose to follow Quinne and the the duelists outside. He'd tried. Might as well be the getaway driver or backup, now.
"Let us hope his friends are not of that same mind..."
Emroidz — 09/22/2020
Just like any stubborn old goat, Roylen didn’t take kindly to Harpur’s confrontational body language. The once-Lord Culver snorted and lowered his head, but make no mistake, this bullish gesture did NOT translate to submission with his kind, not by a LONG shot. And it showed in the way the human would find his brow beaten by the rough ridge of molten, angrily glowing horns. “I called you a goatfucker, you half wit; do you need me to spell it out for you?” Roy doubled down without hesitation, “I better take the time and explain now then, because you won’t have ANY sense left once I’ve beaten it out of you!”
Oops. Sorry Quinne, sorry Arron (sorry Ganu, bless)! This was the REAL Roy now.
If there was ANY hope in this group of soldiers, even if they did not outrank Harpur, Roylen would find someone among them to lend him their sword. Once they had, he’d weigh it in his hand—testing both his left and right, which was rather ominous as it suggested ambidextrous ability of at least SOME degree—before taking up arms and an active defense against a man who already SINCERELY looked like he wanted the satyr dead.
Roy’s cloven footfall upon cobblestone echoed there out front of the tavern in town square, but it’s cadence was not one of a lamb to slaughter, but rather of a spirit unafraid of battle. Setting his stance and readying his blade, Roy’s spaded tail lashed as he stared this magic bigot squarely in the eye.
Degu — 09/26/2020
Harpur was angry but there was a part of him that was openly and outwardly glad he'd been given bait to latch on to. Another month, another turned down application from faewatch, he was mad. He wanted to let off some steam and wailing on this goat bastard was just what he needed. One reptilian woman was only too happy to toss her sword over to Roylen, among some of the less human guards who were happy for a chance to see Harpur get what was coming to him.
With Roylen stood in front of him with a sword in hand, he grinned dangerously, eyes burning with predatorial hunger. He wanted to wait, he wanted to do what was best for him and let Roylen make the first move...but he was hungry, his hands itched around the hilt of his sword. He couldn't wait. The moment the demon was ready he grinned and charged, raising his sword with two hands to swing down at an angle towards Roylen's hip.
There were alarmed gasps from the guards, a few shouted out 'don't try to kill him, man! it's just a duel!' or other similar statements of alarm.
Emroidz — 09/26/2020
Pleased with the longsword he was provided, Roylen thought nothing of how he may have needed a hardier blade to contend with the heavy-hitting broadsword that Harpur wielded.
Having studied fencing since he was a wee little boy, the satyr was the Apollo Creed to this human’s Rocky Balboa...which could explain why he was about to get the FUCK knocked out of him while he was busy dancing around.
This maddened, bigoted fuck had some serious demons to deal with even BEFORE Roylen came along, as the racist came out of the gates swinging like he was wielding more of a blunt object than a blade. It was FRIGHTENING, and immediately—rightfully—set the former Lord Culver on a panicked, retreating defense.
He was quick, but not nearly quick enough. That two-handed downswing was enough to cleave nearly straight through the blade Roylen brought to his side in a futile attempt to deflect. All it did was lodge them together, easy enough for Harpur to then yank the bent, might-as-well-be-broken, lent weapon right out of his hands. Worse still was that deflecting that blade, even a little, meant taking it in the thick muscle of his outer thigh: a deep, spurting gash that Roylen could only clap a hand over on the same side once he was inevitably disarmed.
Ugh! Fuck this guy! Seriously! Burning white hot in an instant, to the point approaching within a certain distance would mean sweltering skin to the point of bubbled blisters, Roylen didn’t so much as flinch as he burned the fur completely bald from that area of his leg and cauterized the wound with a blast of concentrated heat. He wouldn’t exsanguinate, but he still hobbled as he called out (read: pleaded) for another weapon—quickly—before Harpur took another swing at him.
It was clear now this had quickly turned into a matter of life and death. If no one provided him with a replacement blade, he would need to fall away further to regroup, forcing Harpur to give crazed, genocidal chase while he mustered up pained focus and struggled to create his OWN weapon. He’d been practicing. He’d been practicing A LOT, but still needed materials to melt down and forge in hand into something usable as an at least TEMPORARY means of offense or defense.
Still, the point was made, even in desperate passing, for Quinne and Arron not to do ANYTHING that might give themselves away or get themselves involved. Something that probably sounded like a wailing siren in passing: like “Dooooooont—worry gents! Iiiiiiiiiii—got this!” (Little bit of near-death humor, you know how it is.)
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur bellowed with laughter as he tore that damaged sword from Roylen's grip, a maddened grin showing all his teeth "Not so good as you thought, old goat?" he backed off sharply though when he saw flames burst from Roylen's palm, narrowing his eyes to make sure the demon wasn't thinking of cheating. Ugh, fine, the wound was cauterized.
The brute seemed cocky though after such an easy success with the first blow "Go on, demon, I'll even let you get the first swing in. You're so confident in your ability you should have no trouble, hm?" he smirked, chin tilted upwards arrogantly. He waited for someone to pass him a sword and quickly someone did, a few uttered 'Sir maybe this should stop' or similar worries towards Harpur but they fell on deaf ears.
He readied his sword, laughing darkly as he waited for this goat fellow to prove his metal with a free swing, his eyes were mad and hungry.
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
Roylen was in pain, and as much as he could mask it by the sheer stubbornness of his hardened expression, that hobble gave him away. He had to change his stance, and Harpur would know that. He was now wielding his second sword with the completely opposite hand, suggesting he WAS ambidextrous and had been trained to wield on both sides, which was an impressive feat.
With his spaded tail whipping back and forth, the satyr edged his way back in, half-turning Harpur around and then quarter-turning back while trying to find a way inside his personal space and that natural bubble of sword-swinging defense that didn’t make his leg feet like it was gonna fall off. Everything did. Everything hurt.
He’d sacrifice the limb though, knowing he had a little two-stepped quickness left in him before he fell out, so he’d need to make quick worth of this magit asshole. The second sword he’d been given was made of hardier stuff, thankfully, and while it weighed more, it could still be wielded in one hand. He swung in, feigned a tap, and then reversed his trajectory, trying to slice up Harpur’s arm: he only needed to incapacitate one of them, seeing as a broadsword needed two to wield effectively.
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur's cockiness would be his downfall here, because he smirked as the slightly crippled demon tried to move on him and- well, succeeded. He followed his movements with a practiced gaze but the feint caught him off-guard.
He tried to block the first pretend attack but was too slow to recover for the second, taking the blade across his arm. He moved in a way that lessened the slice, it wasn't enough to incapacitate the arm but it was enough to make it harder for him. The crowd cheered a bit too loudly and the mans face burned red with humiliation. He growled furiously and swung hard for Roylen's sword in some attempt to knock it to one side so that he might lift a boot and SLAM it into the satyr's chest in some attempt to throw him down prone.
"You fucked up, fireborn." he snarled.
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
Ever the shit talker, even when highly incapacitated, the satyr made kissy noises at Harpur, as though his beet red face could be attributed to a fluttering heart rather than a flustered ego.
Every swing of Harpur’s sword was SO heavy. Connecting blade to blade, it was by sheer luck (and that even marginally wounded forearm he’d inflicted) that Roylen wasn’t disarmed AGAIN. But where he was able to hold onto his lended sword, with an already injured leg, the demon had nothing to step back and brace on. That boot connected, not squarely to his chest, thank the gods, but enough to still throw him down onto his back.
Sword swung up but was used for defense, not offense, as it was laid across his chest with the flat of the blade to be used as a bridge and brace supported by both hands. Roylen was sure Harpur was going to stomp him again...but here’s the thing...the worst thing Harpur could have done was start kicking. Because, well—a human simply wasn’t going to out-kick a goat.
With one good leg left, Roylen shifted his body, coiled the spring of his thick, sinewy leg muscles, and released: if it connected, those cloven hooves could be enough to fracture, if not break bone.
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur wanted to bask in his victory prematurely, smirking as he stood over Roy, pinning the mans sword to his chest as he proceeded to kick as the man had predicted, laughing. His laughter was cut short, however, as his shin was kicked with all the force that a goat man could put behind said kick. He bellowed in pain at first and then silenced himself, gritting his teeth and snarling in agony through them.
He hadn't fallen, but he might have taken less damage if he had. He limped and staggered backwards, barely able to put any of his heavy weight on it but never once would he turn his back. Oh yeah that was fractured. He panted and huffed to try and recover but the throbbing pain in his bones was intense.
Sweating now he glared madly at Roylen, too stubborn to stop. He was embarrassed, he was in pain. He needed so desperately to reclaim his upper hand. Limping forwards he made a wide sweep with his sword at Roylen's legs, yelling furiously as he did so.
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
There was no opportunity to get up, not yet. Harpur was enraged and, even injured, wasted not a moment in attacking again, still just as heavy hitting as before. The way it happened the first time came close to coming to pass a second, Roylen taking damage to his weapon as blade met blade, and glancing from tip to hilt and away so that it nicked his lower leg this time: bloody, but blessedly superficial.
He needed to move. He knew he had only one good go with his truly bad leg to get him upright again, and would rush to get it under him, willing to take the pain if it meant he had enough momentum to get up and under Harpur with ridged, armor shoulders and ram horns as well. He’d lay both of them into the guard’s gut and groin, hammering him like a linebacker.
Best case scenario? The tables would turn and HARPUR would end up on his ass. Worst case scenario? It’d be like running into a brick wall and the weighed, upwards effort would have been so much that the molten scab he’d inflicted upon himself to stop the bleeding would break apart and start pouring blood again, down his leg and onto the cobblestone in rather concerning amount. Or, perhaps, simply somewhere in the middle: a wobble from Harpur and a hobble from Roylen to reset them back at blade’s length for a final standoff, as both were heavily injured now in their leg.
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur was struck with horns to the gut and groin and had the wind knocked out of him hard. He felt like he might vomit and then the searing pain blossomed in his groin. "You dirty fuckin' goat" he choked out and slammed his elbow down into Roy's shoulder. The rest of the match saw them scrabbling for victory, both injured. Harpur focused on hitting that gash in Roy's side as much as he could but he couldn't quite cope with any hits to his leg, often losing his balance but coming back for more.
It ended with them both bloody and bruised. Harpur was breathless and angry, seriously angry. He glared at Roy from across the arena made by onlookers and then finally he growled and turned to walk away, shoving past the crowd as he said nothing, limping home.
He grit his teeth as he heard the crowd behind break out in cheers. They didn't care that Roy hadn't 'won', they cared that he'd stood his ground and Harpur had called it off. They swarmed cheerfully, guards trying to usher him back inside. The reptilian woman who'd thrown him her sword the first time grinned toothily "We'll get you patched up over a beer. You ever thought about joinin' the guard, feller?" she asked and looked to Arron and Quinne who she'd seen with Roy and reached out to motion them back inside "Come on fellers! This round's on me!"
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
Roylen was tired, but just as fucking mad as Harpur was. Dropping his weapon only when he had no energy left to wield it effectively, that didn’t mean the stubborn goat bastard wasn’t going to get in a few more punches before this all was said and done. He socked Harpur HARD in the jaw, doing EVERYTHING to keep himself from crying out a bleating sob of pain from just how many times the human cruelly landed his own fist against his already heavily cleaved haunch.
But he didn’t need to win. He just needed to not fall and have Harpur be the one left standing. And that’s exactly what he managed to do. Only when the crowd closed back off after the equally hobbled guard shoved his way through them would Roylen allow himself to crumble into a woolen, UNDERheated (which was REALLY concerning) heap.
Swarmed by other, obviously more no -human guards, Roylen was VISIBLY overwhelmed and tried not to panic as he was cheerfully hoisted to his feet and celebration INSISTED upon. He searched the crowd for Quinne and Arron’s faces, as all he wanted to do right now was get home before Harpur decided his ego simply could not bear to let this stand and came back with more fury than an ACTUAL second wind.
But, alas, the fire demon did at LEAST owe the reptilian woman her due respect and thanks, as hers had been the first weapon lended, and also fully destroyed, in his standoff. “Nothing wrong with that rapier: I was rusty, not the blade. I’ll have it replaced, with my thanks for your readiness to share, soldier.” He gripped her forearm and shook in a comraderly salute any guard the world over could recognize. “I’ve...are you fuckin’ kidding me? The guard? The guard THAT crazy fuck is on? Have I thought about it?” Roy bellowed startled laughter. Well...he hadn’t. But hmm...maybe he was now. Wouldn’t that just stick in Harpur’s craw?
Rook — 10/04/2020
Quinne had watched with concern and irritation, though he was relieved the racist guard had been given the beating the vampire felt he deserved. Once it was over, he'd step over to Roylen and checked to see if there was any further bleeding from any of his injuries. "Join the guard, probably not a good idea."
Who knew how many other of Harpur's sort were there.
"Do you want us to help you get home?" He asked, glancing away to make sure Harpur was good and gone. "We'll take that round of drinks another day, perhaps. I'm sure Ganu wouldn't be happy if we just stayed behind and drank instead of just getting you home."
Rigby — 10/04/2020
No sympathy or mercy was spared for that guard. Arron had seen far too much of this over his life...and frankly, he was tired. Too tired, even, to properly quip about it and whether they had really left Belsthame at all! And it was probably the last thing a cranky injured demon would want to hear right now, anyway.
"Heh. Or - join. Get right up next to him in rank. Right in his face. Right where he can do nothing about it at all." Quinne's was probably the more sensible suggestion of the two, but who would Arron be if he didn't float a little schadenfreude here and there! But he'd nod and waggle one hand in a 'yeah-he's-probably-right' concession to Quinne anyway at the vampire's own suggestion.
Staying or going, Arron was ready to help them out, either way. "Round of drinks and that cow mystery whenever you are ready"
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
“Thanks gents,” Roylen grunted his ragged appreciation to both Quinne and Arron before taking them up on their offer to get him home to Ganu and the boys safely. He’d tell the reptile woman he’d think on it, and take her up on her drink the next time he was in town. The clansman would depart with a shake of the hand, Roy relieved to know they’d only stuck a pin in the calving mystery for now, and neither the vampire nor the were had forgotten his call for help.
One step forward, two steps back. Moving from Belsthame to Hy-Brazir had been taken a serious shot to Roylen’s ego and had taken a hot minute (pun intended) to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t Lord Culver anymore.
But unexpected windfall had met serendipitous passion when the satyr demon came across that herd of wooly cows in the woods behind their new home. He’d put in the work, and when calving season came along and they successfully birthed the first, domesticated generation, he thought he’d found the niche that would bring him and his family success.
But the calves, each and every one of them, had been stolen. He’d looked everywhere. There had been no post out of place, no stampeding mothers with nursing babes hungry at their heels. After a fruitless search, he’d simply told Ganu that he was going out, that he needed a drink and time to clear his head.
By the time Roylen reached the tavern, however, he was feeling rather hopeless about the whole thing. How was he to support his family now? The locals hadn’t exactly warmed up to their clan moving in, but...if anywhere might turn up some ideas and opportunities, it HAD to be this sort of watering hole, right? Look and listen, Roylen.
Degu — 09/13/2020
The tavern was bustling as it often was that time of the evening, filled with average customers and guards alike. This evening it was particularly dominated by rowdy guards fresh off their shifts, still wearing their armour. You could smell them, really, an oppressive layer of sweat stank permeated heavily throughout the building.
A bard played a casual tune in the corner with a tankard filled with coins at his side. Decorations hung from the rafters and the stone floor was dotted with splashes of beer here and there.
The groups of guards seemed spread across different tables, mostly all eating and laughing about their stories of the day behind them. One didn't, though. A huge fellow sat at the bar brooding in his armour. His helmet and gauntlets were rested on the bar beside him, a large tankard of ale and a plate of mostly meat sat in front of him.
He tore at the turkey leg clenched tightly in his fist, biting huge hunks of it off rather angrily indeed. His hair was black and cut short, eyes a piercing steel blue that glared directly through the bottles on the other side of the bar.
Rigby — 09/13/2020
The lanky butcher and businessman was next into the tavern. And it reeked, but reeked in a way he'd liked to have hoped overpowered his own after-hours scent: blood, sweat and the sligher hints of a stranger musk masked by valerian and cloves.
Or maybe he was just that sensitive to these things and nobody else really picked up them all that much, and he'd forgotten any other way to process it all.
Not that it mattered for so long - as he'd be smelling a lot of malt pretty quickly.
He slid into a seat at the bar, right next to the brooding guy. The fellows were big, Arron was six and a half feet tall and all-limbs, towering in an altogether different way.
Should Joan's deal close, re-upping their own between respective establishments was next on deck. Which...if the customers were ordering plates that were anything like what that nearby guard was working on, was certainly something to look forward to.
Whether he'd been targeted or it was just the nearest empty seat to the drinks wasn't immediately apparent, but after ordering a drink and a platter of his own, Arron turned to properly look at the guy, eyes sliding from the dangerous-looking brooding to the dangerous-looking armor and dangerous-looking tankard, and the way he was tearing dangerously into the turkey. And grinned.
"Well good evening, sir!"
Roylen's wooly cows were off-limits. Arron even withheld any gentle ribbing about pets and 'specials' this time (though he was tempted ...though could one imagine getting through all that fur-!), and the poor former-Lord's plight was as-yet unknown to him. He'd lift a hand in greeting, though at another glance, tilted his head, almost miming a question in his eyes and accentuating it with the lifted hand, stopped just short from waving him over JUST yet...Arron could poke several bears all day, but if the mood was anything to go by, he wasn't about to throw an unsuspecting Roy right into this strange guy's path!
Emroidz — 09/14/2020
Hey Arron, ask Roylen what his boys thought he had named the first cow they found there in the woods. (Spoiler alert: it was “you fucking cunt” when she gored him while he was trying to help her free from where her dumb, fat ass had gotten stuck between two trunks.) Yeah, there was no love lost between him and the herd except the financial viability that came with their survival, a sentiment—or lack thereof—surely a butcher of all people could understand.
But the Were need not lead the demon into a social fray, he entreated upon it willingly when he ponied you to the bar then next. “One of those,” the satyr said, gesturing first to the turkey leg to sourpuss of a knight was currently hamfisting. “And one of those,” Roy added, gesturing to Arron’s fresh and heady tankard. He sighed, seeming keen on the idea that filling his belly would stem all the doom and gloom swirling round and round in his head.
Whether it rightly occurred to Roylen or not, Arron might be more welcome here than he was at present, given that HIS physical predisposition was more than a hair more obvious (and not one that could be covered by that daily flea dip in valerian and cloves). The fire imp’s flesh was an angry red, vented not unlike the creeping, bright under glow of yellowed magma as it seeped from volcanic pores. From the loose hanging, flour sack fabric of his open-chested tunic, one could see the peaks and valleys of those armored, mountainous ridges extend in range from shoulder caps to collar bones. And yes, the curtains likely matched the drapes, considering he was the burly sort with salt and pepper as much through his chest hair and wooly lower half (how cute, a farmer who matched his cows!) as he had through that thick, slicked back comb of hair.
Degu — 09/14/2020
Harpur was cagy. One could quite easily tell the guard didn't have a lot of trust for the citizens of the town, and was it surprising when so few were what they appeared on the surface? When Arron sat down beside him his lip curled up in a sneer before tearing another strip of turkey from the bone. He chewed and eyed the man up and down at his greeting. Human? was he human? ... seemed it on the surface.
"Evenin'" he growled, voice deep and gravelly. As he turned to look at Arron, the burn on the right-hand side of his face would become more than apparent, though it seemed old now. It partially cut into his hairline but it seemed he'd gotten lucky or perhaps sought out potions to at least restore some lost hair.
His attention turned away when he heard hooves, already sneering if only because he knew someone hadn't let their pet goat into the tavern.... it was always a person in this place, never an animal (though he'd beg to differ).
His steely eyes quickly fixed Roylen with a piercing stare as he pointed at what he was eating and demanded one from the bar keep, growling deeply "They'll let anything into the city these days. Even demon-spawn." Imp, demon, devil, all were getting the same umbrella term from this fellow. "And every time I'm part of the clean up crew, helping put out the fires and pick up the bodies. So when are you going to snap and burn us all, demon-spawn?" oof, friendly, wasn't he?
Rook — 09/14/2020
The smell wasn't great, but atleast it wasn't something that burned his senses as some did. Quinne hadn't been much of a regular yet, but he wanted to wander while the boys were all tucked into bed. For the sake of Zaff, though, he had considered hiring help for the house so she wouldn't have to sit and remain incase the scaly trio woke up at any time during the night.
"Good evening." The vampire greeted, looking from Arron to Roylen and he smiled faintly. "How is-." The question was about to be directed towards the demonic Lord, but he paused at the sudden bit of racism and he stared at Harpur momentarily. Ah. Humans, of course. Just when he hoped that nonsense was behind them after leaving Belsthame.
"How is everything going? I haven't had a chance to visit with settling into the new house, but I should soon. I've not seen Ganu in a while."
Rigby — 09/16/2020
Arron did angle his head slightly, regarding the big guard's burn curiously. (...though he couldn't talk; his own glamoured ring still hid the worst of his own burns, made old, stretched and faded by constant shifting)
There was the slightest tensing of Arron's jaw at Harpur's next remark. Whether human racism or racism against supernaturals, he'd heard enough of it. Not, mind, in a water-off-a-duck's-back way, but he'd been beaten down enough over the years that he'd just expected it.
Yet it was a bit different when it was aimed at someone other than himself.
To the guard, an attempt to defuse. "'Clean-up crew?'" Another head-tilt. "I doubt he will snap, that is not a particular hobby of his. Nor productive, I imagine, heh!"
"Still, master Roylen...bad day?" He eyed the drink. "Been a bit lax in keeping up, myself, settling in to do, children to wrangle, shops to establish, I am truly sorry - but oh, Master Quinne, hello! Come join if you like, seems we are already off to a strong start!" He gestured to their steadily-accumulating tankards and waved his with a grin.
Any underlying tension - should he jump in and have to prevent one big fellow from killing the other - was expertly masked, for now. One move would probably be bad PR, but the other way around was something he was especially ready to stifle after their stint in Belsthame.
Emroidz — 09/17/2020
Roylen Culver had a temper: always had, always would. Between his fire element and his demon blood, a short fuse was pretty much a given. How fortunate it was that he’d met Ganu when he did, or else everything Harpur was saying now might eventually end up a sort of...self fulfilling prophecy. He was better now. He knew how to control himself.
“Only thing I roast these days is the most delicious bogswallow boar. My boy‘s gotten to be quite the hunter in our short time here. Ever had spit-fired, suckling pig, soldier?” Roy asked Harp, feigning curiosity for the sake of a CHANCE at a peaceful first impression with the locals and tavern regulars.
...but Quinne and Arron both would UNDOUBTEDLY see that Roylen had LITERALLY used up EVERY ounce of decorum he had to his name and good-nature (on loan from Ganu rather than something he possessed innately) in a single sentiment.
If Quinne was looking for help, Roylen could certainly recommend Tilly (NPC). It hurt his heart that he no longer possessed an estate large enough to keep her employed, especially after she had agreed to come with him and emigrated from her home in Belsthame. She was human, but her husband was a fishfolk, and you’d find no harder worker nor better ally to their magickin that had all come over to Hy-Brazir together. “Pretty much the same as our friend here described: settling in, wrangling children—teenager boys no less—and trying to figure out what the hell I’m good for. That last one’s been a task and a half, I’ll tell you that much: Ganu’s back from the plane, you know, and with the calves gone missing from my herd, can’t say I’m much good except for maybe an out-of-practice sell sword these days.” He’d been a military man in Belsthame, after all, and while it wasn’t necessarily a past he was proud of, it was a marketable skill nonetheless. Regardless, it was clear Roy had been put through the ringer already just trying to plant some roots here.
Degu — 09/17/2020
Harpur's lip peeled back irritably as he felt swarmed. It'd become a bit of a thing so he was reactive. Ballsy, cocky supernaturals these days liked to aaaall sit down near him at the bar sometimes just to annoy him. They knew he couldn't do a whole lot. The guard looked over at his comrades sitting nearby to check they were still there and then huffed, eyes wheeling between each of the newcomers near him, fixing Quinne with a stare as he looked the younger man up and down as if scanning him. These people seemed human at a glance but they associated with one who clearly wasn't.
Arron's rambling was met with a derisive grunt "They all do eventually. Fireborns always snap." and as said fireborn asked if he'd enjoyed a spitroasted suckling pig he leaned towards him with a cold grin "I think I prefer goat" grin became smirk as he glanced down at Roy's legs before ripping the last piece of turkey from the bone between his teeth.
He listened in on the conversation. Ganu? missing calves... the plane? someone had left this plane of existence? his skin crawled and his fingers longed for his blade.
He snorted "You? with a sword? Don't make me laugh Demon." he chuckled darkly. The bait was only too obvious. Harpur cast it and didn't even bother to look at Roy as he waited for the man to take it. He was looking between Quinne and Arron who were the only two not obvious, there had to be something strange about them, right? he took in a deep whiff of them, caring very little if they noticed him smelling them. Raw meat...he'd recognise that smell anywhere at least.
Rook — 09/17/2020
"A wine sounds nice, maybe just a red tonight." Harpur was staring at them and grumbling about Roylen's nature, so he decided to avoid going for a bloodwine. If he needed, he'd just visit Rufio for a fresh bottle later. Tilly would certainly be someone he'd hire, given how good she was with children!
"Do you want to work out next week's schedule for the shop soon, Arron?" Give the other man a break from it was his intention. "Missing...? I don't have a lot of people in my employ yet, but perhaps I can look around and find them. I'm a really good tracker." And if need be, he had friends who could help. "I'm sorry, it's tough getting used to a new place and lifestyle." The vampire offered sympathetically, offering a couple shards to the bartender for his choice of drink. "It is great to see you both."
Harpur continued to show his distaste and while Quinne had noted the sniffing, he said nothing of it. It might difficult for the man to pick up the unnatural smell, but there were still hints of horse and faint cologne lingering on him in an attempt to mask it from people who could. "Do you need someone to hug you? Is that why you're acting like this?"
Rigby — 09/21/2020
There was a method to using patter to de-fuse, and Arron had plenty of patter. Blessedly, Roylen kept his next response in check, too.
"Calves are missing?" Arron frowned. He wouldn't admit aloud worry about his own stock first after that, but Roylen was people, and it was a shit spot to be in. "...I would like a look later, if you will have me," dipped into a bit of a murmur for the demon alone. And Quinne chimed in and Arron beamed, gesturing between the both of them. Yeah. He'll help out. Get a Quinne and his own sniffer on it.
But he felt himself bristle a bit, breath sharply catching despite the control he'd often exercised as the big man appeared to give Quinne the once-over - and then smell them both. ('Pardon me, sir, I did just get off of work. Is not the most glamorous of jobs. Or...fragrant.') Or too-fragrant, depending on one's outlook. "Master Quinne has the rather enviable position of the pair of us to not have been buried elbow-deep in a cow's entrails at any point today!" he'd added with a grin.
"They snap, mmm?" He'd added with a rather unnervingly even tone. "I suppose until then, I plan to enjoy happy hour with him."
Emroidz — 09/21/2020
“You know, I thought you looked like a man who’s enjoyed more than a few goats in his lifetime.” Wait...did he...was he...squint.
Yes. Roylen had just called Harpur, in not so many words, a goat fucker, and he managed to do with the most cheery and sociable disposition possible. Service with a smile! Ganu would be so proud...
...okay, maybe not. But the demon could only take so much racist bullshit after reforming his own narrow-minded ways! To make matters worse Harpur’s prejudices had manifested far more physically as he grew beyond just outspoken, but brazen as well with that presumptive sniff.
Hell no. Culver decided he didn’t want the attention off of him like he first though he did, not if it meant Arron and Quinne both getting the unfair shake he’d been given from the get go due to something as simple as a clove-footed approach. The solution was simple enough, however: “Draw yours against me then, soldier,” the demon insisted, still even-toned and tempered and not sinking so low as to refer to him with the same CONTEMPTUOUS use of the word human, as though it were repugnant at a vocabulary level. The challenge, by all accounts, was respectful, from one military man to another.
But...something said that wasn’t a mutual feeling when ACTUAL weapons were to be involved, ESPECIALLY with Harpur having said it was only a matter of time before he snapped and that, essentially, he’d be doing to world a favor to prevent that.
Degu — 09/22/2020
Harpur's attention was torn between the three men. His eyes lingered for a time on Quinne's chest but before he could respond he'd been hit with a rather quick comeback from Roylen. Of course.... Harpur wasn't actually the smartest man in the world so he did nothing for a moment, glaring at the other two .... and then it clicked.
Wait. The demon had meant..-
Immediately his huge body wheeled around, his barstool flying out from under him. He shoved his huge form up into Roylen's face, forehead to forehead with him in an attempt to intimidate him but also in challenge. "The fuck did you call me, demon?" he growled through his teeth. The music stopped and the guards nearby were all on their feet ...but they weren't worried about Roy, they were worried about maybe trying to stop Harpur from taking things too far.
He narrowed his eyes, snorting in disgust "Gladly, fiend. Outside in the courtyard, now." he shoved at Roy before turning to stomp outside with bared teeth, calling back to Quinne "Why don't you save that hug, undead?" Oh he'd noticed alright "Your precious friend here will need it when I leave him crying on the cobbles." he said venomously, rage barely restrained at the prior insult.
When Harpur stepped outside he drew the broadsword from his back and held it in both hands, dark eyes waiting with far too much hatred in them for anyone to expect him not to try to make a death blow. The guards seemed to be mixed in their responses as some of them took their drinks and headed outside to watch the duel. Some sighed, some sounded giddy... clearly there wasn't anyone who outranked Harpur nearby to tell him to get the fuck back to the barracks and cut this shit out.
Rook — 09/22/2020
Unfortunately, any planning to help Roylen's calves would have to wait. Insults flung back and forth, though the vampire seemed bored when Harpur mentioned his affliction. "Congratulations, you can pick up on things. That might be the smartest thing you've done tonight." He'd accepted his glass of wine, and while appreciative of Roylen drawing attention away, he was also against it.
"Don't give him what he wants, he might twist it around and have the rest of those who think the same way see you as the aggressor."
He wasn't sure if Roylen was interested in listening to reason after that display, but the vampire would still make an effort. "He's just some drunk on a power trip, afterall." People seemed to want the fight, and he'd stick alongside Roylen even if he went outside. A quick glance was offered Arron's way, and Quinne looked exasperated.
Even away from Belsthame, there'd always be someone.
Rigby — 09/22/2020
The music stopped and in that brief pause of tavern-wide stunned silence, the sound of Arron's forehead hitting the counter and his looooong sigh might've been heard.
He'd looked up again, dragging a hand across his face and meeting Quinne's exasperated look with one of his own. He downed the rest of his drink with a speed that would've probably taken out any other spindly giant and rose to follow Quinne and the the duelists outside. He'd tried. Might as well be the getaway driver or backup, now.
"Let us hope his friends are not of that same mind..."
Emroidz — 09/22/2020
Just like any stubborn old goat, Roylen didn’t take kindly to Harpur’s confrontational body language. The once-Lord Culver snorted and lowered his head, but make no mistake, this bullish gesture did NOT translate to submission with his kind, not by a LONG shot. And it showed in the way the human would find his brow beaten by the rough ridge of molten, angrily glowing horns. “I called you a goatfucker, you half wit; do you need me to spell it out for you?” Roy doubled down without hesitation, “I better take the time and explain now then, because you won’t have ANY sense left once I’ve beaten it out of you!”
Oops. Sorry Quinne, sorry Arron (sorry Ganu, bless)! This was the REAL Roy now.
If there was ANY hope in this group of soldiers, even if they did not outrank Harpur, Roylen would find someone among them to lend him their sword. Once they had, he’d weigh it in his hand—testing both his left and right, which was rather ominous as it suggested ambidextrous ability of at least SOME degree—before taking up arms and an active defense against a man who already SINCERELY looked like he wanted the satyr dead.
Roy’s cloven footfall upon cobblestone echoed there out front of the tavern in town square, but it’s cadence was not one of a lamb to slaughter, but rather of a spirit unafraid of battle. Setting his stance and readying his blade, Roy’s spaded tail lashed as he stared this magic bigot squarely in the eye.
Degu — 09/26/2020
Harpur was angry but there was a part of him that was openly and outwardly glad he'd been given bait to latch on to. Another month, another turned down application from faewatch, he was mad. He wanted to let off some steam and wailing on this goat bastard was just what he needed. One reptilian woman was only too happy to toss her sword over to Roylen, among some of the less human guards who were happy for a chance to see Harpur get what was coming to him.
With Roylen stood in front of him with a sword in hand, he grinned dangerously, eyes burning with predatorial hunger. He wanted to wait, he wanted to do what was best for him and let Roylen make the first move...but he was hungry, his hands itched around the hilt of his sword. He couldn't wait. The moment the demon was ready he grinned and charged, raising his sword with two hands to swing down at an angle towards Roylen's hip.
There were alarmed gasps from the guards, a few shouted out 'don't try to kill him, man! it's just a duel!' or other similar statements of alarm.
Emroidz — 09/26/2020
Pleased with the longsword he was provided, Roylen thought nothing of how he may have needed a hardier blade to contend with the heavy-hitting broadsword that Harpur wielded.
Having studied fencing since he was a wee little boy, the satyr was the Apollo Creed to this human’s Rocky Balboa...which could explain why he was about to get the FUCK knocked out of him while he was busy dancing around.
This maddened, bigoted fuck had some serious demons to deal with even BEFORE Roylen came along, as the racist came out of the gates swinging like he was wielding more of a blunt object than a blade. It was FRIGHTENING, and immediately—rightfully—set the former Lord Culver on a panicked, retreating defense.
He was quick, but not nearly quick enough. That two-handed downswing was enough to cleave nearly straight through the blade Roylen brought to his side in a futile attempt to deflect. All it did was lodge them together, easy enough for Harpur to then yank the bent, might-as-well-be-broken, lent weapon right out of his hands. Worse still was that deflecting that blade, even a little, meant taking it in the thick muscle of his outer thigh: a deep, spurting gash that Roylen could only clap a hand over on the same side once he was inevitably disarmed.
Ugh! Fuck this guy! Seriously! Burning white hot in an instant, to the point approaching within a certain distance would mean sweltering skin to the point of bubbled blisters, Roylen didn’t so much as flinch as he burned the fur completely bald from that area of his leg and cauterized the wound with a blast of concentrated heat. He wouldn’t exsanguinate, but he still hobbled as he called out (read: pleaded) for another weapon—quickly—before Harpur took another swing at him.
It was clear now this had quickly turned into a matter of life and death. If no one provided him with a replacement blade, he would need to fall away further to regroup, forcing Harpur to give crazed, genocidal chase while he mustered up pained focus and struggled to create his OWN weapon. He’d been practicing. He’d been practicing A LOT, but still needed materials to melt down and forge in hand into something usable as an at least TEMPORARY means of offense or defense.
Still, the point was made, even in desperate passing, for Quinne and Arron not to do ANYTHING that might give themselves away or get themselves involved. Something that probably sounded like a wailing siren in passing: like “Dooooooont—worry gents! Iiiiiiiiiii—got this!” (Little bit of near-death humor, you know how it is.)
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur bellowed with laughter as he tore that damaged sword from Roylen's grip, a maddened grin showing all his teeth "Not so good as you thought, old goat?" he backed off sharply though when he saw flames burst from Roylen's palm, narrowing his eyes to make sure the demon wasn't thinking of cheating. Ugh, fine, the wound was cauterized.
The brute seemed cocky though after such an easy success with the first blow "Go on, demon, I'll even let you get the first swing in. You're so confident in your ability you should have no trouble, hm?" he smirked, chin tilted upwards arrogantly. He waited for someone to pass him a sword and quickly someone did, a few uttered 'Sir maybe this should stop' or similar worries towards Harpur but they fell on deaf ears.
He readied his sword, laughing darkly as he waited for this goat fellow to prove his metal with a free swing, his eyes were mad and hungry.
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
Roylen was in pain, and as much as he could mask it by the sheer stubbornness of his hardened expression, that hobble gave him away. He had to change his stance, and Harpur would know that. He was now wielding his second sword with the completely opposite hand, suggesting he WAS ambidextrous and had been trained to wield on both sides, which was an impressive feat.
With his spaded tail whipping back and forth, the satyr edged his way back in, half-turning Harpur around and then quarter-turning back while trying to find a way inside his personal space and that natural bubble of sword-swinging defense that didn’t make his leg feet like it was gonna fall off. Everything did. Everything hurt.
He’d sacrifice the limb though, knowing he had a little two-stepped quickness left in him before he fell out, so he’d need to make quick worth of this magit asshole. The second sword he’d been given was made of hardier stuff, thankfully, and while it weighed more, it could still be wielded in one hand. He swung in, feigned a tap, and then reversed his trajectory, trying to slice up Harpur’s arm: he only needed to incapacitate one of them, seeing as a broadsword needed two to wield effectively.
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur's cockiness would be his downfall here, because he smirked as the slightly crippled demon tried to move on him and- well, succeeded. He followed his movements with a practiced gaze but the feint caught him off-guard.
He tried to block the first pretend attack but was too slow to recover for the second, taking the blade across his arm. He moved in a way that lessened the slice, it wasn't enough to incapacitate the arm but it was enough to make it harder for him. The crowd cheered a bit too loudly and the mans face burned red with humiliation. He growled furiously and swung hard for Roylen's sword in some attempt to knock it to one side so that he might lift a boot and SLAM it into the satyr's chest in some attempt to throw him down prone.
"You fucked up, fireborn." he snarled.
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
Ever the shit talker, even when highly incapacitated, the satyr made kissy noises at Harpur, as though his beet red face could be attributed to a fluttering heart rather than a flustered ego.
Every swing of Harpur’s sword was SO heavy. Connecting blade to blade, it was by sheer luck (and that even marginally wounded forearm he’d inflicted) that Roylen wasn’t disarmed AGAIN. But where he was able to hold onto his lended sword, with an already injured leg, the demon had nothing to step back and brace on. That boot connected, not squarely to his chest, thank the gods, but enough to still throw him down onto his back.
Sword swung up but was used for defense, not offense, as it was laid across his chest with the flat of the blade to be used as a bridge and brace supported by both hands. Roylen was sure Harpur was going to stomp him again...but here’s the thing...the worst thing Harpur could have done was start kicking. Because, well—a human simply wasn’t going to out-kick a goat.
With one good leg left, Roylen shifted his body, coiled the spring of his thick, sinewy leg muscles, and released: if it connected, those cloven hooves could be enough to fracture, if not break bone.
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur wanted to bask in his victory prematurely, smirking as he stood over Roy, pinning the mans sword to his chest as he proceeded to kick as the man had predicted, laughing. His laughter was cut short, however, as his shin was kicked with all the force that a goat man could put behind said kick. He bellowed in pain at first and then silenced himself, gritting his teeth and snarling in agony through them.
He hadn't fallen, but he might have taken less damage if he had. He limped and staggered backwards, barely able to put any of his heavy weight on it but never once would he turn his back. Oh yeah that was fractured. He panted and huffed to try and recover but the throbbing pain in his bones was intense.
Sweating now he glared madly at Roylen, too stubborn to stop. He was embarrassed, he was in pain. He needed so desperately to reclaim his upper hand. Limping forwards he made a wide sweep with his sword at Roylen's legs, yelling furiously as he did so.
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
There was no opportunity to get up, not yet. Harpur was enraged and, even injured, wasted not a moment in attacking again, still just as heavy hitting as before. The way it happened the first time came close to coming to pass a second, Roylen taking damage to his weapon as blade met blade, and glancing from tip to hilt and away so that it nicked his lower leg this time: bloody, but blessedly superficial.
He needed to move. He knew he had only one good go with his truly bad leg to get him upright again, and would rush to get it under him, willing to take the pain if it meant he had enough momentum to get up and under Harpur with ridged, armor shoulders and ram horns as well. He’d lay both of them into the guard’s gut and groin, hammering him like a linebacker.
Best case scenario? The tables would turn and HARPUR would end up on his ass. Worst case scenario? It’d be like running into a brick wall and the weighed, upwards effort would have been so much that the molten scab he’d inflicted upon himself to stop the bleeding would break apart and start pouring blood again, down his leg and onto the cobblestone in rather concerning amount. Or, perhaps, simply somewhere in the middle: a wobble from Harpur and a hobble from Roylen to reset them back at blade’s length for a final standoff, as both were heavily injured now in their leg.
Degu — 10/04/2020
Harpur was struck with horns to the gut and groin and had the wind knocked out of him hard. He felt like he might vomit and then the searing pain blossomed in his groin. "You dirty fuckin' goat" he choked out and slammed his elbow down into Roy's shoulder. The rest of the match saw them scrabbling for victory, both injured. Harpur focused on hitting that gash in Roy's side as much as he could but he couldn't quite cope with any hits to his leg, often losing his balance but coming back for more.
It ended with them both bloody and bruised. Harpur was breathless and angry, seriously angry. He glared at Roy from across the arena made by onlookers and then finally he growled and turned to walk away, shoving past the crowd as he said nothing, limping home.
He grit his teeth as he heard the crowd behind break out in cheers. They didn't care that Roy hadn't 'won', they cared that he'd stood his ground and Harpur had called it off. They swarmed cheerfully, guards trying to usher him back inside. The reptilian woman who'd thrown him her sword the first time grinned toothily "We'll get you patched up over a beer. You ever thought about joinin' the guard, feller?" she asked and looked to Arron and Quinne who she'd seen with Roy and reached out to motion them back inside "Come on fellers! This round's on me!"
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
Roylen was tired, but just as fucking mad as Harpur was. Dropping his weapon only when he had no energy left to wield it effectively, that didn’t mean the stubborn goat bastard wasn’t going to get in a few more punches before this all was said and done. He socked Harpur HARD in the jaw, doing EVERYTHING to keep himself from crying out a bleating sob of pain from just how many times the human cruelly landed his own fist against his already heavily cleaved haunch.
But he didn’t need to win. He just needed to not fall and have Harpur be the one left standing. And that’s exactly what he managed to do. Only when the crowd closed back off after the equally hobbled guard shoved his way through them would Roylen allow himself to crumble into a woolen, UNDERheated (which was REALLY concerning) heap.
Swarmed by other, obviously more no -human guards, Roylen was VISIBLY overwhelmed and tried not to panic as he was cheerfully hoisted to his feet and celebration INSISTED upon. He searched the crowd for Quinne and Arron’s faces, as all he wanted to do right now was get home before Harpur decided his ego simply could not bear to let this stand and came back with more fury than an ACTUAL second wind.
But, alas, the fire demon did at LEAST owe the reptilian woman her due respect and thanks, as hers had been the first weapon lended, and also fully destroyed, in his standoff. “Nothing wrong with that rapier: I was rusty, not the blade. I’ll have it replaced, with my thanks for your readiness to share, soldier.” He gripped her forearm and shook in a comraderly salute any guard the world over could recognize. “I’ve...are you fuckin’ kidding me? The guard? The guard THAT crazy fuck is on? Have I thought about it?” Roy bellowed startled laughter. Well...he hadn’t. But hmm...maybe he was now. Wouldn’t that just stick in Harpur’s craw?
Rook — 10/04/2020
Quinne had watched with concern and irritation, though he was relieved the racist guard had been given the beating the vampire felt he deserved. Once it was over, he'd step over to Roylen and checked to see if there was any further bleeding from any of his injuries. "Join the guard, probably not a good idea."
Who knew how many other of Harpur's sort were there.
"Do you want us to help you get home?" He asked, glancing away to make sure Harpur was good and gone. "We'll take that round of drinks another day, perhaps. I'm sure Ganu wouldn't be happy if we just stayed behind and drank instead of just getting you home."
Rigby — 10/04/2020
No sympathy or mercy was spared for that guard. Arron had seen far too much of this over his life...and frankly, he was tired. Too tired, even, to properly quip about it and whether they had really left Belsthame at all! And it was probably the last thing a cranky injured demon would want to hear right now, anyway.
"Heh. Or - join. Get right up next to him in rank. Right in his face. Right where he can do nothing about it at all." Quinne's was probably the more sensible suggestion of the two, but who would Arron be if he didn't float a little schadenfreude here and there! But he'd nod and waggle one hand in a 'yeah-he's-probably-right' concession to Quinne anyway at the vampire's own suggestion.
Staying or going, Arron was ready to help them out, either way. "Round of drinks and that cow mystery whenever you are ready"
Emroidz — 10/04/2020
“Thanks gents,” Roylen grunted his ragged appreciation to both Quinne and Arron before taking them up on their offer to get him home to Ganu and the boys safely. He’d tell the reptile woman he’d think on it, and take her up on her drink the next time he was in town. The clansman would depart with a shake of the hand, Roy relieved to know they’d only stuck a pin in the calving mystery for now, and neither the vampire nor the were had forgotten his call for help.
(Second) RP Between Ave and Degu
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Degu — 10/21/2020
Harpur had been given a good old verbal lashing when he'd gotten to work the next day, it seemed his less loyal co-workers had gone straight to the higher-ups and had dropped him in it as soon as possible. Even a few days later his leg wasn't right and he'd been falling behind at work because of it. He was sour and irritable, sitting now in the tavern far away from the cheerful crowds and instead leaning back with his leg straightened out at a table by the fire. Even his own colleagues were putting distance between them and him rather noticeably, as were fellow patrons.
He looked a little less intimidating this evening, at least, having come in off an earlier shift he'd had the chance to change into some normal clothes. A simple grey tunic stretched taut over his daunting physique and some black trousers. He seemed to be on his second ale, grouchily staring up at the large stag head mounted above the fireplace in silent contemplation.
Ave — 10/22/2020
Jax strode into the tavern with the air of a cocky bastard who owned the joint, completely oblivious to the fights or whatever-the-hell happened here before. Far too busy with his own personal affairs to care about the affairs of others. This was a haunt he may have been in before, or not; either way he seemed to know exactly where to go and who to talk to about filling his beer stein to the brim with good old fashioned beer (and giving misty eyes at the pretty barmaids).
The tavern was crowded, so there was not much of a choice for Jax to sit except a few empty chairs by the fire where a lone crippled gentleman brooded. Worked for Jax, to be honest. Content with a full mug, Jax strode over, wearing a simple tunic and trousers complete with heavy boots—also muscular and ready to tear his shirt to pieces with one good strain of pectorals and biceps.
“Humm.” He took a swig of the handsome beer stein in his hand, looking Harpur up and down as he sat on the chair to his left. “You look like a fellow contemplating revenge.” He sat back into the chair, propping his boot up on one knee with a lazy regard for the injured, beefy man.
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed the creak of heavy footsteps until they were upon him. He looked down from the stag head and regarded the 'human' questioningly. He tilted his head up and stared him down before grunting gruffly "I'm doing exactly that, friend." his eyes lingered on Jax, he was looking for any sign that this man might not be human...so far he couldn't see anything, or even smell anything strange.
This man was either brave, a fool or new to the city to have come over and sat so confidently with him. "Can't say I've seen you in here before. New in town, are y'?" he asked with an air of suspicion, iron coloured eyes never leaving Jax even as he took a long drink from his tankard.
Ave — 10/22/2020
“Ahh...” Jax raised his mug up to the hunter. “I see a lot of myself in you, old boy. Any fool looking the way you do now and staring down a fire can only mean one thing to a man like me.” Jax took a deep drought, surfacing with froth dripped on his beard. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. “Been in your shoes before. Only advice I can give is to let the anger stoke your fires; it will give you strength to put an end to your enemies once and for all.” Oop, was Jax trying to give the famous hunter advice?
Whatever Harpur thought of Jax, it was safe to say that he was both! And Jax didn’t care one lick one way or another. “New. Ish. You haven’t seen me, because I don’t stick around; I’ve been too busy getting drunk and bedding the barmaids.” Jax barked laughter, then frowned. “Does that girl look pregnant to you? Oh, gods, I hope it’s not mine.” He didn’t seem terribly concerned.
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur quirked a brow "A bold claim, from a man I've only just met." he said, not sure if the claim irritated him, or flattered him... he supposed he'd find out. Jax had piqued his interest, though. When Jax suggested he let the anger stoke his fires he seemed surprised, he was used to being talked down from his anger, so much so that it'd given him pause "Is that so? Men like you are few and far between these days. There used to be many more in this city...others would ask me to push my anger down." he chuckled deeply.
Another long swig was taken, smirking as Jax bragged about his sexploits, looking over his shoulder "Don't flatter yourself, I doubt you've been here long enough to know, yet. Doubt you're that potent, too" he rumbled with more laughter before slamming down his tankard and reaching across the table to offer his hand.
"Harpur. And you are?"
Ave — 10/22/2020
“Bold men make bold claims,” Jax said, shrugging nonchalantly, and finishing off his beer. That was fast. Jax waved for a barmaid who looked big in the midsection, who swayed over for refills. Jax smacked her rear as she walked off, giggling. “One for the gentleman too, Miss.” Smirking, he raised his beer stein to his lips, and paused.
“I don’t know, she did look a little chubby around the waist. And her ass got huge. Still lookin’ damn fine, love a woman with meat on her bones. More to grab and love.” He laughed, then fell quiet as he tried to do the math in his head. How many weeks ago, how many days, how many nights? Giving it up as a bad job because he is terrible at math, he grunted. Then almost spat out his beer. He choked as he tried swallowing. He decided against telling this stranger about his many bastard children. In his experience, he got a lot of flak for it, and was sick of the nagging about ‘taking responsibility’. Fuck that. “What, and you are?” He grinned. “Well maybe the kid’s yours, then.” Feeling relaxed now, he followed Harpur’s example and propped his own feet up.
“That is a load of nonsense. They don’t know the power of anger, and what it can do for you. I think of it as inspiration. S’all I need to get me out of sticky situations.”
Quite liking this ‘Harpur’ fellow already, Jax had no qualms leaning over and shaking the man’s hand. “Jaxamir. I go by Jax.”
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur's mood towards this man seemed to darken as he slapped the barmaid on the arse. He sat up a little straighter, narrowing his eyes and squaring his jaw. Just because he was hated didn't mean he wasn't a guard dog for the citizens he believed had a right to live here. When the woman walked off giggling he had to assume that Jax and her had prior history and huffed, sagging back into his seat and going ahead with the handshake.
"If I hear you've been botherin' the women here you might not make it to the prison cell." he warned in a low rumble. He grunted and shook his head "I don't want any bastard children floating around. A child is supposed to be a legacy, a testament to your greatness and bloodline. I'd rather pick a suitable woman, when I'm ready" not that he was terribly young now.
"Hm, maybe so but I let my anger make me sloppy this time." he glanced down at his leg. "Next time I won't."
Ave — 10/22/2020
Welp, that didn’t last long. Already Harpur was starting to act just like everyone else. Jax threw up his arms, accidentally sloshing beer on his front. “Ah, damn it all.” He sighed, but the damage was done. At least it negates any sour feelings he had about Harpur’s attitude. “Well, Harpur, I doubt you’ll hear any woman complain.”
Glancing up at Harpur, Jax snorted. “Not on that leg, you’re not. You’re hardly more threatening than a pup right now. Try again when you’re not crippled, and we’ll see about that, eh? It’s no fun to beat your ass while you’re already down.”
Jax dropped his head and shook it, hiding a smirk. “You sound like a nobleman. I know noblemen. They’re obsessed with bloodlines. So, is that what you are—or were?”
With his drink, he pointed it to his leg. “So, what happened to you?”
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur's rather fragile ego was skewered by that comment, eyes burning furiously "You'd do well not to test that theory, friend" he warned dangerously, not so subtly suggesting that he'd gladly beat Jax down to prove a point.
When told he sounded like a nobleman he almost spat the swig of ale he'd taken, rumbling with laughter "No. Just a man with sense and good blood, I don't need to be a nobleman to know that." he huffed in disbelief, jabbing his tankard towards Jax "What happened to me? got squared up to by some dirty lesser demon. I put a few holes in him though, I reckon he's feelin' worse than I am." he sneered, implying that he thought he'd won that battle despite being the one to retreat.
Ave — 10/22/2020
Jax gave Harpur a wicked, toothy grin. “I’ve tested many theories in my lifetime, but here I am today. Still alive and kicking.” Jax opened his arms wide, as if saying, come at me, bro.
“Ah, fuck off. I’ve got sense,” Jax retorted with a scowl, pointing at himself. That was a fat lie. He probably didn’t even know the definition of such a word. “I just like to fuck and drink good beer. Life is too short to let life’s simplest pleasures squander away. Maybe you should try it. Let loose a little, warm someone’s bed for the night before you’re too old to experience it all.” He shrugged again with that arrogant air.
“Ah, demons. Of course.” Jax knew them well. “Conniving wretches, the lot of them. Chance meeting, or bounty?”
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur couldn't decide if he liked this bastard or not, but he had to remind himself that his pickings these days were less and less. Since abolishment of his guild it'd become harder and harder to find even remotely likeminded individuals. It was why he gravitated to people like Marcello's family.
He sneered and sagged back "Thanks for the advice" he snapped irritably. Jaxamir was probably right, but the last thing he needed while he was trying to get promoted was a scandal.
The next thing that left the 'human's' mouth made his brows bounce. Oh...more likeminded than he thought, then, this Jaxamir. "Chance meeting, goat bastard walked into this tavern like he owned the place." he snorted irritably. "You ever killed a demon? Not like they're upstandin' citizens. Half the time the bastards just attack you. Can't trust 'em."
Ave — 10/27/2020
“You’re welcome!” Jax exclaimed jovially, raising his beer to the ceiling. “So, I take it you taught him a lesson. So did that demon, by the looks of it. Oh, it doesn’t look that bad. I’ll bet you’ll walk it off in no time.”
Jax gave a small shrug, but he couldn’t agree more, really. “Killed my fair share, back in the War of the Nine Isles,” he drawled, swinging his head to the fire, then back around again. “Crop-stealers, killed our women and children without hesitation, carried havoc as their banner. No. No, there is no reasoning with a demon, in my experience.”
Harpur could not have known about the Nine Isle War (unless he does), but it was a brutal crusade against the unholy back during Jax’s knighthood.
“Could never agree on anything. You so much as look at them, they take it as a slight. Too bad there is no bounty on his head. Could use the extra coin, pay off my tabs... what is it that you do, anyway? Slay demons for a living?” He snorted in his beer.
Degu — 10/28/2020
Harpur sneered, he obviously didn't like how Jaxamir kept trying to point out any weaknesses in him, even if it came after praise "Aye I taught him a damned lesson and if he knows what's good for him he won't show his face again." he growled and sat up straight. Talk of war distracted him, jingling metaphorical keys in front of his face and making him forget about his sore ego. "War of the Nine Isles?" he asked with a glow of interest in his eyes. He leaned forwards as best he could without hurting his leg. "Aye... hm..." he took another long drink and finished off his tankard, slamming it down on the counter. "Once upon a time....friend, once upon a time... now we have to accept them into our homes, into our city.... to actively put ourselves at risk for some illusion of pace. To be 'progressive'" he said venomously. "I'm a guard captain here in the city." he rumbled with less pride than such a title seemed to deserve.
He seemed to want to draw attention away from the topic, nodding towards the door "I've got more ale at home and a collection that might interest you. You seem to me like a likeminded man, aye? and the walls in here have ears... "
Ave — 10/28/2020
“Mm hmmm... it all sounds uncomfortably familiar. I’ll save my story about the Isles for later. It is quite the tale, and I should like to do it justice.” Jax tapped his beer stein with a finger, pulled far away and into another world in his mind. He finished his beer, and had the vague idea to call for more. He was so lost in thought that the slam of Harpur’s tankard pulled him back, sending the man a brief, reproachful look. That disappeared when Harpur revealed what he was to the city.
“Ah, Captain.” Jax gave the man a formal, polite salute. There was a wariness that thankfully did not quite settle in his eyes. A concern for later. He was feeling too good to give it too much thought. Jax was, after all, a trouble maker in the city. If Harpur did not bat an eyelash hearing his name, he might soon.
Harpur said the magic words. Mention alcohol, and Jax was putty. Giving the captain a sloppy grin, he said, “Well, what are we waiting for? A man’s cup should never be left wanting for long, and my host seems eager to share. Lead the way, friend.”
Harpur had been given a good old verbal lashing when he'd gotten to work the next day, it seemed his less loyal co-workers had gone straight to the higher-ups and had dropped him in it as soon as possible. Even a few days later his leg wasn't right and he'd been falling behind at work because of it. He was sour and irritable, sitting now in the tavern far away from the cheerful crowds and instead leaning back with his leg straightened out at a table by the fire. Even his own colleagues were putting distance between them and him rather noticeably, as were fellow patrons.
He looked a little less intimidating this evening, at least, having come in off an earlier shift he'd had the chance to change into some normal clothes. A simple grey tunic stretched taut over his daunting physique and some black trousers. He seemed to be on his second ale, grouchily staring up at the large stag head mounted above the fireplace in silent contemplation.
Ave — 10/22/2020
Jax strode into the tavern with the air of a cocky bastard who owned the joint, completely oblivious to the fights or whatever-the-hell happened here before. Far too busy with his own personal affairs to care about the affairs of others. This was a haunt he may have been in before, or not; either way he seemed to know exactly where to go and who to talk to about filling his beer stein to the brim with good old fashioned beer (and giving misty eyes at the pretty barmaids).
The tavern was crowded, so there was not much of a choice for Jax to sit except a few empty chairs by the fire where a lone crippled gentleman brooded. Worked for Jax, to be honest. Content with a full mug, Jax strode over, wearing a simple tunic and trousers complete with heavy boots—also muscular and ready to tear his shirt to pieces with one good strain of pectorals and biceps.
“Humm.” He took a swig of the handsome beer stein in his hand, looking Harpur up and down as he sat on the chair to his left. “You look like a fellow contemplating revenge.” He sat back into the chair, propping his boot up on one knee with a lazy regard for the injured, beefy man.
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed the creak of heavy footsteps until they were upon him. He looked down from the stag head and regarded the 'human' questioningly. He tilted his head up and stared him down before grunting gruffly "I'm doing exactly that, friend." his eyes lingered on Jax, he was looking for any sign that this man might not be human...so far he couldn't see anything, or even smell anything strange.
This man was either brave, a fool or new to the city to have come over and sat so confidently with him. "Can't say I've seen you in here before. New in town, are y'?" he asked with an air of suspicion, iron coloured eyes never leaving Jax even as he took a long drink from his tankard.
Ave — 10/22/2020
“Ahh...” Jax raised his mug up to the hunter. “I see a lot of myself in you, old boy. Any fool looking the way you do now and staring down a fire can only mean one thing to a man like me.” Jax took a deep drought, surfacing with froth dripped on his beard. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. “Been in your shoes before. Only advice I can give is to let the anger stoke your fires; it will give you strength to put an end to your enemies once and for all.” Oop, was Jax trying to give the famous hunter advice?
Whatever Harpur thought of Jax, it was safe to say that he was both! And Jax didn’t care one lick one way or another. “New. Ish. You haven’t seen me, because I don’t stick around; I’ve been too busy getting drunk and bedding the barmaids.” Jax barked laughter, then frowned. “Does that girl look pregnant to you? Oh, gods, I hope it’s not mine.” He didn’t seem terribly concerned.
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur quirked a brow "A bold claim, from a man I've only just met." he said, not sure if the claim irritated him, or flattered him... he supposed he'd find out. Jax had piqued his interest, though. When Jax suggested he let the anger stoke his fires he seemed surprised, he was used to being talked down from his anger, so much so that it'd given him pause "Is that so? Men like you are few and far between these days. There used to be many more in this city...others would ask me to push my anger down." he chuckled deeply.
Another long swig was taken, smirking as Jax bragged about his sexploits, looking over his shoulder "Don't flatter yourself, I doubt you've been here long enough to know, yet. Doubt you're that potent, too" he rumbled with more laughter before slamming down his tankard and reaching across the table to offer his hand.
"Harpur. And you are?"
Ave — 10/22/2020
“Bold men make bold claims,” Jax said, shrugging nonchalantly, and finishing off his beer. That was fast. Jax waved for a barmaid who looked big in the midsection, who swayed over for refills. Jax smacked her rear as she walked off, giggling. “One for the gentleman too, Miss.” Smirking, he raised his beer stein to his lips, and paused.
“I don’t know, she did look a little chubby around the waist. And her ass got huge. Still lookin’ damn fine, love a woman with meat on her bones. More to grab and love.” He laughed, then fell quiet as he tried to do the math in his head. How many weeks ago, how many days, how many nights? Giving it up as a bad job because he is terrible at math, he grunted. Then almost spat out his beer. He choked as he tried swallowing. He decided against telling this stranger about his many bastard children. In his experience, he got a lot of flak for it, and was sick of the nagging about ‘taking responsibility’. Fuck that. “What, and you are?” He grinned. “Well maybe the kid’s yours, then.” Feeling relaxed now, he followed Harpur’s example and propped his own feet up.
“That is a load of nonsense. They don’t know the power of anger, and what it can do for you. I think of it as inspiration. S’all I need to get me out of sticky situations.”
Quite liking this ‘Harpur’ fellow already, Jax had no qualms leaning over and shaking the man’s hand. “Jaxamir. I go by Jax.”
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur's mood towards this man seemed to darken as he slapped the barmaid on the arse. He sat up a little straighter, narrowing his eyes and squaring his jaw. Just because he was hated didn't mean he wasn't a guard dog for the citizens he believed had a right to live here. When the woman walked off giggling he had to assume that Jax and her had prior history and huffed, sagging back into his seat and going ahead with the handshake.
"If I hear you've been botherin' the women here you might not make it to the prison cell." he warned in a low rumble. He grunted and shook his head "I don't want any bastard children floating around. A child is supposed to be a legacy, a testament to your greatness and bloodline. I'd rather pick a suitable woman, when I'm ready" not that he was terribly young now.
"Hm, maybe so but I let my anger make me sloppy this time." he glanced down at his leg. "Next time I won't."
Ave — 10/22/2020
Welp, that didn’t last long. Already Harpur was starting to act just like everyone else. Jax threw up his arms, accidentally sloshing beer on his front. “Ah, damn it all.” He sighed, but the damage was done. At least it negates any sour feelings he had about Harpur’s attitude. “Well, Harpur, I doubt you’ll hear any woman complain.”
Glancing up at Harpur, Jax snorted. “Not on that leg, you’re not. You’re hardly more threatening than a pup right now. Try again when you’re not crippled, and we’ll see about that, eh? It’s no fun to beat your ass while you’re already down.”
Jax dropped his head and shook it, hiding a smirk. “You sound like a nobleman. I know noblemen. They’re obsessed with bloodlines. So, is that what you are—or were?”
With his drink, he pointed it to his leg. “So, what happened to you?”
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur's rather fragile ego was skewered by that comment, eyes burning furiously "You'd do well not to test that theory, friend" he warned dangerously, not so subtly suggesting that he'd gladly beat Jax down to prove a point.
When told he sounded like a nobleman he almost spat the swig of ale he'd taken, rumbling with laughter "No. Just a man with sense and good blood, I don't need to be a nobleman to know that." he huffed in disbelief, jabbing his tankard towards Jax "What happened to me? got squared up to by some dirty lesser demon. I put a few holes in him though, I reckon he's feelin' worse than I am." he sneered, implying that he thought he'd won that battle despite being the one to retreat.
Ave — 10/22/2020
Jax gave Harpur a wicked, toothy grin. “I’ve tested many theories in my lifetime, but here I am today. Still alive and kicking.” Jax opened his arms wide, as if saying, come at me, bro.
“Ah, fuck off. I’ve got sense,” Jax retorted with a scowl, pointing at himself. That was a fat lie. He probably didn’t even know the definition of such a word. “I just like to fuck and drink good beer. Life is too short to let life’s simplest pleasures squander away. Maybe you should try it. Let loose a little, warm someone’s bed for the night before you’re too old to experience it all.” He shrugged again with that arrogant air.
“Ah, demons. Of course.” Jax knew them well. “Conniving wretches, the lot of them. Chance meeting, or bounty?”
Degu — 10/22/2020
Harpur couldn't decide if he liked this bastard or not, but he had to remind himself that his pickings these days were less and less. Since abolishment of his guild it'd become harder and harder to find even remotely likeminded individuals. It was why he gravitated to people like Marcello's family.
He sneered and sagged back "Thanks for the advice" he snapped irritably. Jaxamir was probably right, but the last thing he needed while he was trying to get promoted was a scandal.
The next thing that left the 'human's' mouth made his brows bounce. Oh...more likeminded than he thought, then, this Jaxamir. "Chance meeting, goat bastard walked into this tavern like he owned the place." he snorted irritably. "You ever killed a demon? Not like they're upstandin' citizens. Half the time the bastards just attack you. Can't trust 'em."
Ave — 10/27/2020
“You’re welcome!” Jax exclaimed jovially, raising his beer to the ceiling. “So, I take it you taught him a lesson. So did that demon, by the looks of it. Oh, it doesn’t look that bad. I’ll bet you’ll walk it off in no time.”
Jax gave a small shrug, but he couldn’t agree more, really. “Killed my fair share, back in the War of the Nine Isles,” he drawled, swinging his head to the fire, then back around again. “Crop-stealers, killed our women and children without hesitation, carried havoc as their banner. No. No, there is no reasoning with a demon, in my experience.”
Harpur could not have known about the Nine Isle War (unless he does), but it was a brutal crusade against the unholy back during Jax’s knighthood.
“Could never agree on anything. You so much as look at them, they take it as a slight. Too bad there is no bounty on his head. Could use the extra coin, pay off my tabs... what is it that you do, anyway? Slay demons for a living?” He snorted in his beer.
Degu — 10/28/2020
Harpur sneered, he obviously didn't like how Jaxamir kept trying to point out any weaknesses in him, even if it came after praise "Aye I taught him a damned lesson and if he knows what's good for him he won't show his face again." he growled and sat up straight. Talk of war distracted him, jingling metaphorical keys in front of his face and making him forget about his sore ego. "War of the Nine Isles?" he asked with a glow of interest in his eyes. He leaned forwards as best he could without hurting his leg. "Aye... hm..." he took another long drink and finished off his tankard, slamming it down on the counter. "Once upon a time....friend, once upon a time... now we have to accept them into our homes, into our city.... to actively put ourselves at risk for some illusion of pace. To be 'progressive'" he said venomously. "I'm a guard captain here in the city." he rumbled with less pride than such a title seemed to deserve.
He seemed to want to draw attention away from the topic, nodding towards the door "I've got more ale at home and a collection that might interest you. You seem to me like a likeminded man, aye? and the walls in here have ears... "
Ave — 10/28/2020
“Mm hmmm... it all sounds uncomfortably familiar. I’ll save my story about the Isles for later. It is quite the tale, and I should like to do it justice.” Jax tapped his beer stein with a finger, pulled far away and into another world in his mind. He finished his beer, and had the vague idea to call for more. He was so lost in thought that the slam of Harpur’s tankard pulled him back, sending the man a brief, reproachful look. That disappeared when Harpur revealed what he was to the city.
“Ah, Captain.” Jax gave the man a formal, polite salute. There was a wariness that thankfully did not quite settle in his eyes. A concern for later. He was feeling too good to give it too much thought. Jax was, after all, a trouble maker in the city. If Harpur did not bat an eyelash hearing his name, he might soon.
Harpur said the magic words. Mention alcohol, and Jax was putty. Giving the captain a sloppy grin, he said, “Well, what are we waiting for? A man’s cup should never be left wanting for long, and my host seems eager to share. Lead the way, friend.”
(Third) RP between Rigby and Rook
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Rook — 10/30/2020
[Open RP!]
While most people generally only brought horses to tie up infront of the tavern, the young viking had done so with the 'raptor he had brought along, even if the pale Heillandi didn't seem to care for it. Still, she relented and laid down at the post while Torbjorn went inside. Like his mother, his hair was a ginger-red in color, but otherwise, he appeared more like his father. The tavern hadn't been a spot he visited yet, but the rest of his family were busy and he was bored.
Once inside, and getting used to all the decor the room had, he headed right for the bar itself. "Is there a menu? What's popular?" The viking would ask, settling for standing as opposing to sitting and he'd keep an eye on anyone closeby. Paranoia, perhaps, inherited from his Mother as well.
Rigby — 11/05/2020
She'd not worn colors today, had dressed unremarkably in weathered riding gear. Her 'sort' did not often frequent this tavern; the only 'tell' on the woman in the tavern was a little wolf's-head ring that could've been discreetly hidden under her sleeves.
Had she been looking for someone?
If so, whoever-it-was did not yet appear to be here, which seemed just as well. She could wait. The issue now was just to mark time...in a tavern full of rowdy men just as eager to leap into duels at the slightest provocation as they were to drown their evenings in its selection.
Luckily, she'd not waited long for a distraction; in tying her Aurelia to the post reserved for patron mounts, she couldn't help but notice an entire raptor. (And who wouldn't notice! Even the golden horse she'd ridden was doin her best to edge as far away from the odd mount as she could!)
Enrica did the exact opposite, however...she did creep closer, unblinking maintaining just enough of a distance, would coo a 'hello' to the beast in her best talking-to-Jian voice to dissuade any odd readings of her body language. Sorry, Torbjorn, she'd be in in another round! You'd just happened to be the guy to bring the cute dog.
Rook — 11/05/2020
Torbjorn got a simple meal, and with a cup of coffee, since he doubted the place would care to give him mead. His parents didn't care as much, but they weren't there to vouch for him! He took a spot near the door, so he could watch people walking in and out (while sneaking glances at Heillandi).
When approached by the young girl, the raptor watched her through one eye before turning her head to inhale sharply. She shook her head and rumbled, but remained laying down. The soft voice was Enrica's winning move, because it didn't put the large 'mount' into guard-mode and she eventually turned to preen. Despite this...that sharp eye remained locked on her visitor.
Rigby — 11/07/2020
She'd remained still for a moment, in the event the creature wanted to venture a sniff a'la Rosa or Jian. It was similar to things she'd read, primordial creatures long-dead or larger relatives of Jian's species.
"Yeah that's right...you're a pretty one. Good boy. Girl." She wasn't entirely sure how to tell, but figured the beast wouldn't mind so much. The twins would've undoubtedly had some difficulty sexing the little manaraptor at his hatching, if Marc didn't just seem to know, and there really hadn't been any cues from Jian - aside from possibly-thicker legs and a little green ring around his neck - that she could take into this larger And she looked around. Of course the raptor's owner would be inside.
"I have to go inside, now. I'll be sure to tell your owner how good you're being, should I see him, all right?"
And drawing the traveling cloak tightly around herself on reflex and mentally noting the dagger and fan hidden on her person, she'd entered the tavern.
Ordering a drink went without issue, though among the usual pleasantries and before she started to scan for a seat relatively free of rowdy guards, the bartender also got a question, deliberately loud enough for those nearby as well.
"What sort of beast is that, out front?" The obvious one, certainly not her own horse! "Or whose it is?"
Rook — 11/07/2020
Given how she was tied up, Heillandi could only venture a sniff from a short distance, simply to avoid someone getting chomped. The young girl left, so the 'raptor went back to sunbathing there infront of the tavern.
Bjorn, ever hungry, hadn't taken long to finish off half of his food, but wanted to avoid leaving the 'raptor out there too long. Intelligent creatures got bored fast and she was no exception! When Enrica wandered in, the viking hadn't paid much attention to her at first, outside a casual glance.
"It's a 'raptor. Utah or something! She technically belongs to my family, but is more around me. Why?" He asked, eyebrows raised almost enough to disappear underneath his bangs.
Rigby — 11/08/2020
"I'd never seen anything like her before." Not an 'it,' a her; she'd picked up on that, immediately! Then amended, "ACTUALLY-not-all-the-way-true. I have. Kind of. He was much littler."
There was no demand for decorum here, and thusly Enrica did not partake, and after taking her drink (a beer!), she finally managed to perch nearby - did not quite allow herself to sit yet - and gave into a couple of the countless questions she'd had!
"Yuta-raptors," close enough, "aren't native. Neither are you? I mean! Not. In a 'your-sort' kind of way, more...Did you just arrive? Where did she come from, how did you end up with her?" Can I get one? was wisely withheld!
Rook — 11/08/2020
"Yeah, they're not easy to find, I've been told." If one got lucky with planes and whatnot, then they'd certainly get a few! Guildereim, much like Etla, seemed a melting pot of eras rather than just people. "I heard of small ones, like chickens. There were some on the island back then too."
Enrica settled nearby, so the viking sat up a little straight, to appear more attentive than he did before. "We arrived a few months ago, were on the seas for years. She was born on an island called Guildereim, alongside a few others. She technically belongs to my mother, but my mother favours the lead male...so I got her technically and my sister probably owns the other female, even if she's still a bit young."
Rigby — 11/08/2020
"One I've seen is kind of like a chicken. Smaller, has a bad wing and eye." Lives secretly in a box under her twin's bed. Normal stuff like that, and totally not implying she'd had it, at all. "Not sure the one I've seen was native either, we were thinking it was part of some pets let loose to live in the forest." There was evident distaste about THAT notion. She'd tried to picture poor Rosa let loose to survive in the wilds, and couldn't do it. "She is lovely."
"I've heard of Guildereim. Mostly talks about trade." Notably the more tropical exports. "My mother and aunts would talk about going there to catch the pixie migration, and sometimes they'd talk about bringing back naga eggs and dishes."
But then he mentioned living on the seas! And now she was BLATANTLY interested! That perch slowly, slowly settled into a proper seat as she spoke, nursing her beer with sips whenever he spoke in return.
"Years! Just...living?" The thought was WILD to her,something more romanticized in the stories of her early family before they'd settled. "What brought you here? You liking...ah. Land?"
Rook — 11/08/2020
"Probably won't last long in the wild." Bjorn said with a faint grimace, but raptors were special to him - all sorts! "People do that here? That's unfortunate. My mom got her first 'raptor from someone who let her out of a cage and then couldn't handle her, so she retrieved her from the jungles. They bonded pretty quick, but that one vanished a while ago."
He didn't know the story there, but atleast they had the other three! "Oh, it's good for trading, but kind of a dark place. Not good for people who can't handle what goes on there, plus the whole slavery thing." Illegal everywhere else, atleast, even if Guildereim got shipments of poor unfortunate people.
"Should go around the festival, when getting eggs are easier. Or have them brought over...if you get them when they aren't ready to hatch." Unless they wanted a naga kid around!
"Oh yes, I was born on Guildereim, but lived on the seas since I was two years old!" Bjorn happily explained, finishing off what remained of his food. "Came with my parents, they wanted a new place to live and this seemed a good place to start. I do enjoy land, much more room to run around with the raptors."
Rigby — 11/10/2020
"I think it happens anywhere..." It was grim and entirely rueful - who'd even do that? "As long as people keep exotic pets and decide they can't handle it. I remember when we were kids my brothers and I were out in the woods and found a theow with an old collar on and his leg in a trap...it's kind of like a wolf, but with hooves and a colorful mane. Old world, Africa." By way of explanation and the implication clear - the creature was from nowhere near this world.
"She's lucky to have people like your mother and you!"
Enrica didn't seem deterred much by the slavery; outright encouraged by the mentions of anything dark. It was the curiosity borne of youth, the distance and shelter of nobiliy and good old-fashioned intrigue, and it wrote itself across her face as she sipped again.
"What kind of darkness?" And then she took it down a couple of notches, figuring it wasn't something she should pursue that vehemently if this guy's family was eager for a change of scene! "Makes sense. There's room and places to live...it's not all...establishment. Just show up or been here a while?"
And then a headtilt, a slightly different tone of interest. "Does your family breed them?"
Rook — 11/10/2020
"That's a shame. What happened to it? Was it dead, or close to?" He hadn't heard of one of those before, but 'Africa' was a new and unknown place too. "Yes! My mother was very fond of them from the beginning, I was told, but she was there when they hatched and grew." A mother to them, truly, especially given their secret ability to change to more scaly forms.
"Full of murderers, people taking advantage of the naive, stuff like that. I've been told people got themselves into messes and only realized when it was too late to do much." Though, perhaps such a fate was everywhere. Shitty people were, often, everywhere. "We've been here a few months, got a house set up near the coast. Parents wanted a place where they could keep their ship, should they ever need to go sailing for supplies. Thankfully, most of what we need can be find on the isle."
Plus, a nice big area where the raptors could roam without getting into the city. "It's a good distance from here, so we only come when we need to sell or buy things. 'Raptors make it easier to get back and forth!" She asked about breeding, and Bjorn nodded. "Yes, occasionally. It's hard to find people who can handle them at full size, though."
Rigby — 11/11/2020
"Nearly. We couldn't get to close to the poor thing without it screaming and biting and frothing. Went back to get help, get something to calm him down, you know? By the time we'd made it back, he was gone." But the idea of this guy's mother rearing baby raptors was just as charming as secretly-raising baby Jian and she was quick to smile about it. "I can imagine!"
A smile that turned into a curled fist at her lips as she'd listened to him. She didn't need to give voice to there being terrible people everywhere. Aiolfi knew. But she was rapt.
"Your family knows the seas and the moongates. I am sure there's something in my mother's things, too. I'd like to learn how to get there sometime, I think."
But back to the raptors.
"You ride - wellofcourseyouride! I mean! She's...full size, right?" Another wary look outside, having a tough time picturing any much bigger! Then again, the primordial lizard-birds had been known to leave bones larger than that entire creature, so she couldn't rule anything out!
And she finally held out her hand. "Enrica." Rather pointedly left the House name off, for now. And then she grinned. "Are you looking for people who can handle them?"
Rook — 11/11/2020
"Do you think someone else got it? Did it have to chew its leg off?" Poor thing, if that was the case, but he did hope someone put it out of its misery and dealt with the body properly. "You do? Well, don't go alone. I figure you can ask my mother and she can help, my father won't be so keen on bothering with the place further."
Not that either of them did, really, but they had their fill of it!
"She is, yes! My mom's favorite, is a little bigger than she is. Male differences, I imagine." Bjorn was almost tempted to go out and show her, but was rather worried about a crowd. "Torbjorn, but just Bjorn is good." As with his family, his hand was cooler than normal, but he still took the handshake without hesitation!
"My mother sometimes does, yes! Why, looking to try your hand?"
Rigby — 11/11/2020
"Yes." The incident was haunting and sad no matter what, even after all these years. "...I'm not convinced it wasn't our older brother after he'd let us go on ahead, he'd seemed spooked enough." And then she'd elaborated a bit. "We have a tigre; he'd found the pup abandoned on one of his jobs and decided to care for her, himself. It could've been our tigre in that trap." Still skirted by it as a way to bypass any weird formality this could sprout into.
"That works. Hello, Bjorn!" If she'd noted the temperature difference, she didn't bring it up yet, though there was the subtlest change of expression in her eyes that she'd kept in check. "I didn't expect coming down here and wandering right into a talk about exotic animals, but I'm certainly not about to complain!"
"Absolutely!" It might've been reckless, but she had to see more of these creatures. "Probably nothing like a horse." Even Marc's Florizel. Who was an ass. "But I'd be willing to try!"
Rook — 11/11/2020
"Ah! I'm sorry. What's a tigre though? Like a tiger, I assume, but something mixed?" He asked, having not heard of that either. "But that's understandable, I hope people are more mindful of their traps now." Some part of him doubted that.
Either he was oblivious to the subtle change, or just dismissive, because he didn't appear to have noticed it and he moved to stand after finishing his food. It'd been paid for prior, so he didn't mind leaving the dishes there for the staff to clean up.
"Great! I'll let my mother know, introduce you to her. She usually lets the person raise the babies after they're old enough to be without the parents, but she can train them as mounts if a person wants." Bjorn said, heading for the door. "We could see how you handle on Landi's back, I can lead her so she doesn't try to throw you off."
Rigby — 11/11/2020
"Me, too." Maybe Marc pulled any of those traps down if he came across them in his weird stints in the forests. She could only hope. He was probably the worse-off of all of them during that theow incident, almost paralyzed with nerves.
"A bit mixed. She's more of a large...wolf, that's the closest I can think of. Doggish, but long. A pink-brown, with a mane, a beak, horns and a long tail." She did try to describe some of it with her hands.
"Funny thing is, I've not yet seen a live tiger - if we're talking about the cats with the stripes. I've seen art, I've seen symbols, I've been told plenty of stories, but...no tigers." A disappointed little shrug. "Maybe whoever named Rosa's species got confused and were looking for one thing and got the other."
Regarding Vin: "She sounds lovely." If 'lovely' was the correct word for a hardened raptor-trained - but she was sticking with it! One last look around the tavern and she bit her lip to prevent a full-blown grimace. "I don't think my meet's going to show up. How about it. Let's try!"
And she would follow him to and out the door!
Rook — 11/12/2020
"I'd like to see her someday, if she's allowed to roam with you." It did bring up an inner question. Was he allowed to bring the 'raptor into town or would someone have an issue? Too late for that now, he supposed. "I'm about the same, but even with docking at random places, we only went there for supplies and whatnot. Only a few days getting to explore, get the raptors some proper exercise."
A ship could only do so much!
"Your meet? Well, we won't be long! Maybe we'll even run into them along the way." Bjorn said with a grin, heading for Landi who immediately stood and he'd untie her reins. The beast's feathered crest rose and flattened, as she leaned her head down to accept a scritch along the side of her face.
"The saddle's not much different than a horse's, but she'll need to kneel so you can get up there." It didn't take long for that, but Bjorn had a handle on icelandic-spoken commands and a careful hand.
Rigby — 11/15/2020
"Now that I'm older, I hope there'd be more opportunity to travel." Still mildly cagey about what had stopped her, before.
"I can bring Rosa! She keeps close and we did train her on a harness. If we've time, I can find her later!"
Richa did hold out her hand to offer Landi another fresh sniffing opportunity, now that the raptor's handler was present and things were more obviously 'okay.' She was Bjorn-approved, all was well - and she even offered in her best low talking-to-Rosa-and-Jian voice almost heedless of what Bjorn had thought of it, "See, he's here. Just me, again. Y'gonna be good? Good girl..." It trailed off into a little mumble of sweet and small reassuring nothings in a language that was distinctly not-English.
The raptor was all-leg and tail. The seat seemed the same, the balance would likely take some adjusting.
She'd already been in riding gear, including trousers! And should Bjorn lead and direct her when to mount, she would (carefully) climb aboard the raptor, stroking and scritching the feathers.
Rook — 11/15/2020
"I'm sure they will be, plenty of places to go. Not sure how much of this place people can explore, but maybe other cities and whatnot." Just where dragons and fae weren't, right? He was sure there were still cities that welcomed a melting pot of races.
Bjorn kept a hold of the reins, as Landi leaned in to sniff at her hand again and eventually turned her head to stare at her directly. "Alright, up you go. You don't have to worry about moving too quickly, she won't spook like a horse." Which was probably a good thing, because she could probably bite harder. After Richa was in place, the young viking would lead the 'raptor away from the tavern and towards the gardens. Less people shopping there.
"Her balance is going to feel strange, since she's bipedal." He said, offering the reins up once he was sure Landi wouldn't bolt. Still, as a precaution, he'd hold onto the chained halter.
[Open RP!]
While most people generally only brought horses to tie up infront of the tavern, the young viking had done so with the 'raptor he had brought along, even if the pale Heillandi didn't seem to care for it. Still, she relented and laid down at the post while Torbjorn went inside. Like his mother, his hair was a ginger-red in color, but otherwise, he appeared more like his father. The tavern hadn't been a spot he visited yet, but the rest of his family were busy and he was bored.
Once inside, and getting used to all the decor the room had, he headed right for the bar itself. "Is there a menu? What's popular?" The viking would ask, settling for standing as opposing to sitting and he'd keep an eye on anyone closeby. Paranoia, perhaps, inherited from his Mother as well.
Rigby — 11/05/2020
She'd not worn colors today, had dressed unremarkably in weathered riding gear. Her 'sort' did not often frequent this tavern; the only 'tell' on the woman in the tavern was a little wolf's-head ring that could've been discreetly hidden under her sleeves.
Had she been looking for someone?
If so, whoever-it-was did not yet appear to be here, which seemed just as well. She could wait. The issue now was just to mark time...in a tavern full of rowdy men just as eager to leap into duels at the slightest provocation as they were to drown their evenings in its selection.
Luckily, she'd not waited long for a distraction; in tying her Aurelia to the post reserved for patron mounts, she couldn't help but notice an entire raptor. (And who wouldn't notice! Even the golden horse she'd ridden was doin her best to edge as far away from the odd mount as she could!)
Enrica did the exact opposite, however...she did creep closer, unblinking maintaining just enough of a distance, would coo a 'hello' to the beast in her best talking-to-Jian voice to dissuade any odd readings of her body language. Sorry, Torbjorn, she'd be in in another round! You'd just happened to be the guy to bring the cute dog.
Rook — 11/05/2020
Torbjorn got a simple meal, and with a cup of coffee, since he doubted the place would care to give him mead. His parents didn't care as much, but they weren't there to vouch for him! He took a spot near the door, so he could watch people walking in and out (while sneaking glances at Heillandi).
When approached by the young girl, the raptor watched her through one eye before turning her head to inhale sharply. She shook her head and rumbled, but remained laying down. The soft voice was Enrica's winning move, because it didn't put the large 'mount' into guard-mode and she eventually turned to preen. Despite this...that sharp eye remained locked on her visitor.
Rigby — 11/07/2020
She'd remained still for a moment, in the event the creature wanted to venture a sniff a'la Rosa or Jian. It was similar to things she'd read, primordial creatures long-dead or larger relatives of Jian's species.
"Yeah that's right...you're a pretty one. Good boy. Girl." She wasn't entirely sure how to tell, but figured the beast wouldn't mind so much. The twins would've undoubtedly had some difficulty sexing the little manaraptor at his hatching, if Marc didn't just seem to know, and there really hadn't been any cues from Jian - aside from possibly-thicker legs and a little green ring around his neck - that she could take into this larger And she looked around. Of course the raptor's owner would be inside.
"I have to go inside, now. I'll be sure to tell your owner how good you're being, should I see him, all right?"
And drawing the traveling cloak tightly around herself on reflex and mentally noting the dagger and fan hidden on her person, she'd entered the tavern.
Ordering a drink went without issue, though among the usual pleasantries and before she started to scan for a seat relatively free of rowdy guards, the bartender also got a question, deliberately loud enough for those nearby as well.
"What sort of beast is that, out front?" The obvious one, certainly not her own horse! "Or whose it is?"
Rook — 11/07/2020
Given how she was tied up, Heillandi could only venture a sniff from a short distance, simply to avoid someone getting chomped. The young girl left, so the 'raptor went back to sunbathing there infront of the tavern.
Bjorn, ever hungry, hadn't taken long to finish off half of his food, but wanted to avoid leaving the 'raptor out there too long. Intelligent creatures got bored fast and she was no exception! When Enrica wandered in, the viking hadn't paid much attention to her at first, outside a casual glance.
"It's a 'raptor. Utah or something! She technically belongs to my family, but is more around me. Why?" He asked, eyebrows raised almost enough to disappear underneath his bangs.
Rigby — 11/08/2020
"I'd never seen anything like her before." Not an 'it,' a her; she'd picked up on that, immediately! Then amended, "ACTUALLY-not-all-the-way-true. I have. Kind of. He was much littler."
There was no demand for decorum here, and thusly Enrica did not partake, and after taking her drink (a beer!), she finally managed to perch nearby - did not quite allow herself to sit yet - and gave into a couple of the countless questions she'd had!
"Yuta-raptors," close enough, "aren't native. Neither are you? I mean! Not. In a 'your-sort' kind of way, more...Did you just arrive? Where did she come from, how did you end up with her?" Can I get one? was wisely withheld!
Rook — 11/08/2020
"Yeah, they're not easy to find, I've been told." If one got lucky with planes and whatnot, then they'd certainly get a few! Guildereim, much like Etla, seemed a melting pot of eras rather than just people. "I heard of small ones, like chickens. There were some on the island back then too."
Enrica settled nearby, so the viking sat up a little straight, to appear more attentive than he did before. "We arrived a few months ago, were on the seas for years. She was born on an island called Guildereim, alongside a few others. She technically belongs to my mother, but my mother favours the lead male...so I got her technically and my sister probably owns the other female, even if she's still a bit young."
Rigby — 11/08/2020
"One I've seen is kind of like a chicken. Smaller, has a bad wing and eye." Lives secretly in a box under her twin's bed. Normal stuff like that, and totally not implying she'd had it, at all. "Not sure the one I've seen was native either, we were thinking it was part of some pets let loose to live in the forest." There was evident distaste about THAT notion. She'd tried to picture poor Rosa let loose to survive in the wilds, and couldn't do it. "She is lovely."
"I've heard of Guildereim. Mostly talks about trade." Notably the more tropical exports. "My mother and aunts would talk about going there to catch the pixie migration, and sometimes they'd talk about bringing back naga eggs and dishes."
But then he mentioned living on the seas! And now she was BLATANTLY interested! That perch slowly, slowly settled into a proper seat as she spoke, nursing her beer with sips whenever he spoke in return.
"Years! Just...living?" The thought was WILD to her,something more romanticized in the stories of her early family before they'd settled. "What brought you here? You liking...ah. Land?"
Rook — 11/08/2020
"Probably won't last long in the wild." Bjorn said with a faint grimace, but raptors were special to him - all sorts! "People do that here? That's unfortunate. My mom got her first 'raptor from someone who let her out of a cage and then couldn't handle her, so she retrieved her from the jungles. They bonded pretty quick, but that one vanished a while ago."
He didn't know the story there, but atleast they had the other three! "Oh, it's good for trading, but kind of a dark place. Not good for people who can't handle what goes on there, plus the whole slavery thing." Illegal everywhere else, atleast, even if Guildereim got shipments of poor unfortunate people.
"Should go around the festival, when getting eggs are easier. Or have them brought over...if you get them when they aren't ready to hatch." Unless they wanted a naga kid around!
"Oh yes, I was born on Guildereim, but lived on the seas since I was two years old!" Bjorn happily explained, finishing off what remained of his food. "Came with my parents, they wanted a new place to live and this seemed a good place to start. I do enjoy land, much more room to run around with the raptors."
Rigby — 11/10/2020
"I think it happens anywhere..." It was grim and entirely rueful - who'd even do that? "As long as people keep exotic pets and decide they can't handle it. I remember when we were kids my brothers and I were out in the woods and found a theow with an old collar on and his leg in a trap...it's kind of like a wolf, but with hooves and a colorful mane. Old world, Africa." By way of explanation and the implication clear - the creature was from nowhere near this world.
"She's lucky to have people like your mother and you!"
Enrica didn't seem deterred much by the slavery; outright encouraged by the mentions of anything dark. It was the curiosity borne of youth, the distance and shelter of nobiliy and good old-fashioned intrigue, and it wrote itself across her face as she sipped again.
"What kind of darkness?" And then she took it down a couple of notches, figuring it wasn't something she should pursue that vehemently if this guy's family was eager for a change of scene! "Makes sense. There's room and places to live...it's not all...establishment. Just show up or been here a while?"
And then a headtilt, a slightly different tone of interest. "Does your family breed them?"
Rook — 11/10/2020
"That's a shame. What happened to it? Was it dead, or close to?" He hadn't heard of one of those before, but 'Africa' was a new and unknown place too. "Yes! My mother was very fond of them from the beginning, I was told, but she was there when they hatched and grew." A mother to them, truly, especially given their secret ability to change to more scaly forms.
"Full of murderers, people taking advantage of the naive, stuff like that. I've been told people got themselves into messes and only realized when it was too late to do much." Though, perhaps such a fate was everywhere. Shitty people were, often, everywhere. "We've been here a few months, got a house set up near the coast. Parents wanted a place where they could keep their ship, should they ever need to go sailing for supplies. Thankfully, most of what we need can be find on the isle."
Plus, a nice big area where the raptors could roam without getting into the city. "It's a good distance from here, so we only come when we need to sell or buy things. 'Raptors make it easier to get back and forth!" She asked about breeding, and Bjorn nodded. "Yes, occasionally. It's hard to find people who can handle them at full size, though."
Rigby — 11/11/2020
"Nearly. We couldn't get to close to the poor thing without it screaming and biting and frothing. Went back to get help, get something to calm him down, you know? By the time we'd made it back, he was gone." But the idea of this guy's mother rearing baby raptors was just as charming as secretly-raising baby Jian and she was quick to smile about it. "I can imagine!"
A smile that turned into a curled fist at her lips as she'd listened to him. She didn't need to give voice to there being terrible people everywhere. Aiolfi knew. But she was rapt.
"Your family knows the seas and the moongates. I am sure there's something in my mother's things, too. I'd like to learn how to get there sometime, I think."
But back to the raptors.
"You ride - wellofcourseyouride! I mean! She's...full size, right?" Another wary look outside, having a tough time picturing any much bigger! Then again, the primordial lizard-birds had been known to leave bones larger than that entire creature, so she couldn't rule anything out!
And she finally held out her hand. "Enrica." Rather pointedly left the House name off, for now. And then she grinned. "Are you looking for people who can handle them?"
Rook — 11/11/2020
"Do you think someone else got it? Did it have to chew its leg off?" Poor thing, if that was the case, but he did hope someone put it out of its misery and dealt with the body properly. "You do? Well, don't go alone. I figure you can ask my mother and she can help, my father won't be so keen on bothering with the place further."
Not that either of them did, really, but they had their fill of it!
"She is, yes! My mom's favorite, is a little bigger than she is. Male differences, I imagine." Bjorn was almost tempted to go out and show her, but was rather worried about a crowd. "Torbjorn, but just Bjorn is good." As with his family, his hand was cooler than normal, but he still took the handshake without hesitation!
"My mother sometimes does, yes! Why, looking to try your hand?"
Rigby — 11/11/2020
"Yes." The incident was haunting and sad no matter what, even after all these years. "...I'm not convinced it wasn't our older brother after he'd let us go on ahead, he'd seemed spooked enough." And then she'd elaborated a bit. "We have a tigre; he'd found the pup abandoned on one of his jobs and decided to care for her, himself. It could've been our tigre in that trap." Still skirted by it as a way to bypass any weird formality this could sprout into.
"That works. Hello, Bjorn!" If she'd noted the temperature difference, she didn't bring it up yet, though there was the subtlest change of expression in her eyes that she'd kept in check. "I didn't expect coming down here and wandering right into a talk about exotic animals, but I'm certainly not about to complain!"
"Absolutely!" It might've been reckless, but she had to see more of these creatures. "Probably nothing like a horse." Even Marc's Florizel. Who was an ass. "But I'd be willing to try!"
Rook — 11/11/2020
"Ah! I'm sorry. What's a tigre though? Like a tiger, I assume, but something mixed?" He asked, having not heard of that either. "But that's understandable, I hope people are more mindful of their traps now." Some part of him doubted that.
Either he was oblivious to the subtle change, or just dismissive, because he didn't appear to have noticed it and he moved to stand after finishing his food. It'd been paid for prior, so he didn't mind leaving the dishes there for the staff to clean up.
"Great! I'll let my mother know, introduce you to her. She usually lets the person raise the babies after they're old enough to be without the parents, but she can train them as mounts if a person wants." Bjorn said, heading for the door. "We could see how you handle on Landi's back, I can lead her so she doesn't try to throw you off."
Rigby — 11/11/2020
"Me, too." Maybe Marc pulled any of those traps down if he came across them in his weird stints in the forests. She could only hope. He was probably the worse-off of all of them during that theow incident, almost paralyzed with nerves.
"A bit mixed. She's more of a large...wolf, that's the closest I can think of. Doggish, but long. A pink-brown, with a mane, a beak, horns and a long tail." She did try to describe some of it with her hands.
"Funny thing is, I've not yet seen a live tiger - if we're talking about the cats with the stripes. I've seen art, I've seen symbols, I've been told plenty of stories, but...no tigers." A disappointed little shrug. "Maybe whoever named Rosa's species got confused and were looking for one thing and got the other."
Regarding Vin: "She sounds lovely." If 'lovely' was the correct word for a hardened raptor-trained - but she was sticking with it! One last look around the tavern and she bit her lip to prevent a full-blown grimace. "I don't think my meet's going to show up. How about it. Let's try!"
And she would follow him to and out the door!
Rook — 11/12/2020
"I'd like to see her someday, if she's allowed to roam with you." It did bring up an inner question. Was he allowed to bring the 'raptor into town or would someone have an issue? Too late for that now, he supposed. "I'm about the same, but even with docking at random places, we only went there for supplies and whatnot. Only a few days getting to explore, get the raptors some proper exercise."
A ship could only do so much!
"Your meet? Well, we won't be long! Maybe we'll even run into them along the way." Bjorn said with a grin, heading for Landi who immediately stood and he'd untie her reins. The beast's feathered crest rose and flattened, as she leaned her head down to accept a scritch along the side of her face.
"The saddle's not much different than a horse's, but she'll need to kneel so you can get up there." It didn't take long for that, but Bjorn had a handle on icelandic-spoken commands and a careful hand.
Rigby — 11/15/2020
"Now that I'm older, I hope there'd be more opportunity to travel." Still mildly cagey about what had stopped her, before.
"I can bring Rosa! She keeps close and we did train her on a harness. If we've time, I can find her later!"
Richa did hold out her hand to offer Landi another fresh sniffing opportunity, now that the raptor's handler was present and things were more obviously 'okay.' She was Bjorn-approved, all was well - and she even offered in her best low talking-to-Rosa-and-Jian voice almost heedless of what Bjorn had thought of it, "See, he's here. Just me, again. Y'gonna be good? Good girl..." It trailed off into a little mumble of sweet and small reassuring nothings in a language that was distinctly not-English.
The raptor was all-leg and tail. The seat seemed the same, the balance would likely take some adjusting.
She'd already been in riding gear, including trousers! And should Bjorn lead and direct her when to mount, she would (carefully) climb aboard the raptor, stroking and scritching the feathers.
Rook — 11/15/2020
"I'm sure they will be, plenty of places to go. Not sure how much of this place people can explore, but maybe other cities and whatnot." Just where dragons and fae weren't, right? He was sure there were still cities that welcomed a melting pot of races.
Bjorn kept a hold of the reins, as Landi leaned in to sniff at her hand again and eventually turned her head to stare at her directly. "Alright, up you go. You don't have to worry about moving too quickly, she won't spook like a horse." Which was probably a good thing, because she could probably bite harder. After Richa was in place, the young viking would lead the 'raptor away from the tavern and towards the gardens. Less people shopping there.
"Her balance is going to feel strange, since she's bipedal." He said, offering the reins up once he was sure Landi wouldn't bolt. Still, as a precaution, he'd hold onto the chained halter.
(Fourth) RP Between Degu, Rook and AJ
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Degu — 03/06/2021
Captain Harken's days off were rare things, he was notorious for working a few weeks straight at a time without breaks and perhaps in this way he wasn't unlike some of the other captains. A good number of the men and women who commanded the city's units were workaholics that never knew when to stop, many of them driven by a need to keep the city safe and sadly that was a drive that never slept. Given how strictly he stuck to night-shift, one could probably consider his appearance in the tavern his equivalent to 'morning drinking', he certainly looked like he'd just woken up.
Clouds of smoke hung in the air around the strange fellow as he smoked and nursed his second bottle of beer in the corner of the room. An empty bowl of something sat off to the side, it had probably been stew or pasta from the smell of it. If anything he looked like he needed coffee more than beer, but on his days off he took what time he could to drink in a bar like a normal patron, dressed in simple clothes and enjoying what little peace he could find in the bustle.
Rook — 03/06/2021
Much like the Captain, Quinne had decided to take a break from the butcher shop that day. He spent most of the evening with his sons, taking them through the city and spending an evening having dinner in a restaurant (Zaffre with them as well!). With the others taking a rest for the night at home, he decided to wander a bit and see if the tavern supplied anything he could have that was more blood and less alcohol.
Asking, though, wasn't so easy. Instead, once he got there, the vampire just went with a dry red wine. Harken was eyed, though he merely held up a hand in greeting to the Captain, instead of outright approaching. Yet. "The wine is good, thank you." He said when asked if he wanted more. "You look like you've had a rough night." Not an approach, but Quinne figured it wouldn't hurt to be friendly...ish.
Degu — 03/06/2021
Harken's deeply shadowed eyes looked up from his bottle and he grunted "This is my morning, son." he chuckled deeply, though the laughter didn't sound genuine. He was just echoing social graces he'd learned to be acceptable no matter his mood. He set the bottle down and took a longer drag on his cigarette(? or pipe, TBA). True laughter or not, he wasn't cold "I'm just tryin' to wake up" the subtle tusks tugged at his lips, making his words more gruff and less complete than he ever really intended them.
His long tiefling-like tail unfurled from behind the chair to wrap idly around a different leg of his chair, his shoulders rolled and his neck cracked and popped with the strain of wearing heavy armor for weeks. He was a sore old bastard to say the least.
Rook — 03/06/2021
"Rough morning, then." Quinne corrected himself with a slight incline of his head, and while the laughter's tone was unexpected, the lack of coldness had him sure the guy really wanted him to leave him be. "I understand. The coffee here can be pretty strong, I've been told, at this hour." A tentative suggestion.
He took up a barstool at the counter, and turned to face the door, holding his glass with one clawed hand. He'd been less concerned about keeping his nails trimmed, but on a regular basis, it was annoying. Plus, he was still getting used to the temporary prosthetic he wore.
AJ — 03/06/2021
If Harken was "Morning Drinking", Bazil was... dragging his tired ass in after a long day for a regular, after-work, "drink it all away" session. This one couldn't be blamed on Harpur. A lot could be blamed on Harpur, but he'd had this problem long before that. Having walked himself home long enough to strip off his heavy armour, it was with a simple tunic and pants that he made his way to the tavern. Still, he walked with the invisible weight of it, his greying mane brushed back by only the power of his fingers, the old man's shoulders faintly stooped.
He paused in the doorway and took quick stock of tonight's patrons, eyes settling on Harken with a bit of recognition. The old lion-man grinned with surface niceties, a tired, lopsided, and vaguely toothy expression. Bazil nearly spoke, but realized he'd be interrupting an ongoing conversation; he waited for a lull, not really taking in the words. Or else he'd realize they'd had an entire exchange about the exact joke he was about to enact. His greeting was all gruff jest and irony. "'Morning." Har har har.
Degu — 03/07/2021
Don grunted, rough morning indeed. He always looked this damn rough "Coffee an' alcohol don't mix, son. I enjoy a beer while I can, gotta be sensible all the rest of the week" The new captain (at least, this side of town) walked in and Harken lifted his head. The fellow was hard to forget with his unique appearance and the captain could sense they were both likely as tired and mothbeaten as the other. He smirked and laughed when the fellow captain greeted him, more genuine this time. He motioned towards Quinne with the cigarette between his fingers "We were just talkin' about it bein' my morning... You're Captain Rayhan, hm? Can't say I've had the chance to talk to you....n' give you my condolences" he rumbled with a tusky grin but a sympathetic stare.
He kicked the chair opposite him out invitingly "Take a load off....hows it been ...? working with Eberhardt." he raised a hand to the barkeep "On my tab, friend." and with that he pointed to Rayhan. "Harpur ain't too keen on our sort... wish I understood Chief de Ovando's decision."
Rook — 03/07/2021
"Wouldn't really know." Quinne said with a shrug and looked over to the new person who arrived, another Captain. He merely nodded to the man and slid off his seat, taking a quick sip of wine. It wouldn't take long for him to take a drink and he'd set the glass aside, paying up after. "Thank you." And with that, the vampire headed for the door. Perhaps a walk elsewhere wouldn't hurt.
AJ — 03/07/2021
Bazil laughed, looked to Quinne with the man's nod. "Yeah? Guess everyone respectable's heading out." Nodding his chin to return the vampire's greeting, a hand raised politely. But Quinne was headed out the door (being an aforementioned Respectable Folk), and the manticore sidestepped to watch him go. "And yeah, I am." His chest rumbled with a low laugh at that, although he avoided, for now, outright slandering Harpur.
The offered chair was a welcome sight, expecting he'd be drinking alone in 'this part of town'. He moved to sit heavily, resting one arm on the edge of the table so he could turn and watch for his beer. "Just... Tiring. No, he's not. Best guess from me is the Chief's trying to teach him a lesson. Or change his world views." At his expense, evidently.
Degu — 03/07/2021
Harken kept a lazy smirk "You sayin' I'm not respectable, Rayhan?" he accused with what little playfulness there was in him, leaning to watch Quinne leave "Nice kid, friendly." didn't stay long though, maybe they'd meet again. Everyone was a 'kid' to him if they had vaguely youthful features by his standards, he was a craggy looking old bastard.
"Heard you two caught Pascaal together though." he said with an eyebrow raise hidden behind a gulp of his beer "Didn't think him the sort to work with anyone too well, wish I'd been there to see it really. Shame Pascaal escaped...always does, maybe if we get all his associates next time there won't be anyone to break the bastard out." he shrugged and raised two fingers to order them both another round before Bazil had even started the first, making his plans to get drunk pretty clear.
AJ — 03/07/2021
"I'm not respectable. You're day-drinking." It was with a mixture of general fatigue and a long-departed ability to Give a Shit that he was, perhaps, acting a little too familiar. Bazil could only hoped his haggard, lined face and grey mane was enough to avoid 'kid'.
"Mm. He's a smart leader." He could give Harpur that. His drink arrived, and he pulled it close, perhaps a little too antsy to get something in-hand. "I pulled him out from under the bridge. Eberhardt was pretty elated." He wouldn't go so far as to say they 'worked well together'—maybe, passably, when they hadn't been butting heads and had actually gotten down to things. It remained to be seen if any of that lasted. "They've got some old rivalry going on." Bazil would almost call it a pining romance. Just... not to Harpur's face. He brought his mug up to his fuzzy lips, just as Harken waved in another round, and the manticore snorted openly, a lopsided, craggy smile. He could get behind getting shitfaced.
Degu — 03/08/2021
Don's tusks bared in an even bigger grin then "No one needs to know i'm 'day' drinkin'" he said with a conspiratorial glance around the room "If I didn' day drink I'd have less of a social life than I do now. My hours don't exactly lend to bein' some social butterfly." he mumbled and took long gulps of his second bottle of beer, not seeming to much care what Bazil thought of him chugging down the entire damn thing to get started. He was a sober, stand up example to the rest of the city every other day of the week but this one. Tonight he needed a damn drink.
"Hmph. They ought to get a bedroom already." he said gruffly with the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips. Harpur would've been furious but his obsessive tendencies definitely resulted in a few rumors floating around the barracks, no matter how fictional they were. Bazil wasn't the first one to come up with such a theory. "Maybe you'll be the one to get him out of his old ways huh? Doubt it, but maybe swine can fly after all."
AJ — 03/08/2021
Bazil settled back into his seat. The tension was still there in his shoulders, but a good swig from his own beer helped release at least some of it. Of everyone who could have joined Harken, the alcoholic manticore was the least likely to judge. Poor self esteem from his own drinking-problem kept all of that to himself. He took long, languid sips, hissing a comfortable exhale.
"No shit." Oops, did he mean to say that one out loud? He raised a hand to his face, playing it off by idly wiping his whiskers. "The guy flirts up a storm. Probably to get under Harpur's skin; can't tell if he notices, though." It had mostly bewildered Bazil, who'd never really had (albeit clearly taunting, antagonistic) Attentions directed his way. The snort that followed was mirthless, the lion's eyes on his half-empty drink. "I think he'd sooner leave me in a ditch. Guess we'll see."
Degu — 03/08/2021
Don let out a deep bark of laughter at the rather strong agreement "Probably. He's good at that, getting under peoples skin...especially within the guard. He exploits weaknesses, nothing less than I'd expect of a fae anyway." he said it without any real 'racism', more just simple acknowledgement. Fae were known for their trickery, it was no big taboo to point it out in a general sense. "Why? did he come after you too? ...Maybe I should capture the guy once in a while, might be nice to feel appreciated" he half-joked, nodding a thanks as a lady brought them the beers he'd just ordered.
He was back to drinking pretty much immediately. "You're probably right. He has probably killed enough of your sort in the past, probably sees this as some big insult." he rolled his eyes but then glanced around and leaned in a little closer "Been hearing things from his unit though. They've been saying he's hearing voices... is that true?"
AJ — 03/08/2021
"Yeah, he made some comments. Harpur's the apple of his eye, though." The manticore almost snorted a second time, tipping his chair back in a fidget to hide that amusement. "Most attention I'll ever get." Woe, two old guys complaining about being underappreciated. Bazil looked at his half-finished beer as the next arrived, contemplating chugging the rest. He took one big gulp to finish it, but didn't immediately chug the next one, keeping a more leisurely pace.
"Pretty sure I'm supposed to be one big insult. Don't want to talk ill've the Chief, but that's all I'm there for." They could have chosen someone more competent, less drunk. The manticore leaned his bushy head in, but there was a hesitation and an introverted look as he mulled over how to approach it. The silence before his answer stretched just long enough to be suspect. "Seems like he likes to sound his problems outloud, if I had to guess." The lie was plausibly vague enough to avoid outright throwing Harpur under the bus. Though he didn't meet Harken's eye.
Degu — 03/08/2021
Don barely stifled a wheezing laugh at the comment about Pascaal and Harpur, though what came next made the slightly buzzing captain shake his head and raise a beer "You just haven't met the right person yet, you're a good lookin' lion." he couldn't help chuckling at how weird it sounded, the buzz of alcohol three beers down certainly made him care a helluva lot less. He motioned to his own neck in a flowing wave "Luxurious, curly locks. A strong jaw. And what says security like a tail covered in spikes?" he grinned almost ear to ear. "Relationships aren't all they crack up to be anyway. Hard in a line of work like ours, unsociable hours and a demand for dedication." he trailed off a little more sadly. His fingers twitched and his thumb rubbed over a certain, bare ring finger as if by nervous tick.
"You're not. de Ovando isn't like that...you're probably just in trouble for something too" he grinned and lightly kicked the Manticore under the table "What'd you do to piss him off, huh?" but he saw the way Bazil looked away when he asked about his partner and sighed, smiling and shaking his head "He doesn't deserve a loyal partner like you. If you have worries...do go speak to the chief, at least? ...lot of us would be glad to see Eberhardt go, honestly."
AJ — 03/10/2021
"Yeah? The tail's what usually gets people." A poisonous ball of murder-spikes wasn't most people's cup of tea, but maybe to each their own. But he couldn't help the craggy, toothy grin and derisive snort that escaped, just over his beer. "Yeah, all right. I'm proud of my mane." He ran his fingers through the long hair under his chin, but sobered (har) from there. "Yeah. It is." They both paused at the same time, creating an awkward silence that Bazil then stumbled through by clearing his throat quietly.
"Probably," he echoed, his humour returning. He retaliated with a blind kick back. "I'm sure being old and washed up was enough." So what'd that mean for Don? He tried to keep that off-kilter grin, faltering with another gruff sound. "Yeah. I will. Whatever's going on in Eberhardt's head. If it hurts the townsfolk..." He trailed, thoughtful, then shook his bushy head and took another swig of his beer. Harpur could be a racist prat, but he seemed to put the city first, always. If that changed, whether Harpur was intentionally malicious—well, he'd figure it out, he supposed.
Realizing he'd finished his beer, he was glad then Harken already had another waiting for him, and reached for it.
Degu — 03/10/2021
Harken raised a bottle to Bazil's own as soon as the captain reached for the next, seeking to knock the necks of the bottles together in a mock toast "You're alright, Rayhan. Can't say I get on with a lot of folk, you're pretty darn easy to talk to though." he admitted as if quite appreciative of that.
Maybe it was jut easier to talk to an equally exhausted looking drunk though, not that he wanted to think about it that way.
"Maybe a good thing you're in trouble huh? Otherwise I wouldn't have me a drinking partner tonight... you keep an eye on that Eberhardt though."
He enjoyed his beer in silence then for a while, seeming comfortable to just sit back and enjoy his beer and do some people watching. A bard started playing at the far end of the tavern and Harken smiled somberly at the sight of a young couple pulling each other to an empty space in the tavern to dance and toss shards to the bard.
Perhaps a longing sigh left him "Young love" he chuckled idly and took an especially long swig of his beer before looking to Bazil "Gotta wonder if we've got what it takes to be buddies. You got a hobby? ...this doesn't count" he smirked and shook the bottle, not realizing that might have hit a little deep.
AJ — 03/11/2021
"I try to go with the flow. Something about honey and vinegar." He clinked bottles and quenched his thirst. "You're not bad yourself." Bazil definitely noted this might be a case of Tired Drunk Comradery, but he was just self-destructive enough not to care. He snorted again. "Guess I'm just a trouble-maker. I'll watch my back." He wasn't yet sure if Harpur was lethally malicious, or just the type to shove him off a bridge.
He followed Harken's gaze, resting the mouth of the bottle against his lower lip. "Guess I'm a pessimist." At least he avoided some gripe about it 'not lasting'. "We got a slim few-hour window between day-shift and night-shift to make it work," he joked with raised eyebrows and his index finger uncurling from his bottle to point at him. It was brief, and he looked down at that bottle. "Fuck, that's hard. I don't know. I used to tinker. I don't do much of that anymore. Collect firearms."
Degu — 03/11/2021
Harken raised a finger again to call for another beer, apparently he was enough of a regular they trusted him to have a tab because no one asked for straight up payment.
He seemed to grunt in somber agreement when Bazil stated his pessimism, neither of them said it but the thought seemed to hang in the air between them nonetheless. The subject matter moved on and Harken seemed grateful for it even though he'd brought the previous topic up himself. He was starting to feel the warm buzz of whatever strong beer the bar staff had been bringing him now, the room wasn't as static as it should have been. "Firearms huh? That's interesting. Probably more interesting than me, I'm too married to m' work to have much else going on. Gotta say I enjoy sports, my schedule doesn't allow for it cept on m' days off...sometimes on m' days off i'll get on down to the coliseum and keep m' eyes open long enough to see a game." he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Would do more hiking if i had the time!" he chuckled deeply, a lot 'happier' than when he'd first come in here. His mood was picking up at last. "I like good music" he nodded towards the bard and tapped his foot, grinning tuskily.
"Almost makes y' want to dance" he said as he knocked back the last of his previous bottle "You want to kick up the dance floor n' embarrass our units? I think I see a few of mine sittin' over there." Thanks, liquid courage, really helpful.
AJ — 03/13/2021
Hey, Bazil was getting booze out of it, he wasn't questioning anything and was perfectly appreciative. He brought his bottle to his lips again, taking another sip and letting it hang there as he people-watched. "I'm trying to diversify. It's not sticking. More time spent doing this." He waggled the bottle and had to hold in that self-deprecating smirk. "You a fan of two guys hitting each other, or one of the other sports?" You know, the ones with rules. ...That still usually ended with two guys hitting each other.
"Hiking's not bad, assuming you're on good terms with the forest, I guess. It's quiet..." It actually didn't sound half bad, right now. ...Until he had to pick ticks out of his fur. Nevermind. Bazil took another swig, attention turning towards the bard he had nodded to. "Yeah, I can agree there." But he chuckled, quickly turning into a loud, wet cough as he choked on his mouthful of beer. He pressed a fist to his lips. "Are you serious!?" He looked at the few loitering off-duty men, alarmed. "I think I need at least another beer 'for I can manage that."
Degu — 03/13/2021
"I like two guys hittin' each other n' a bit o' football. Chariot racing sometimes, hard not t' feel bad for the horses though...n' the young racers that fall off, saw one guy go under three horses one time and it ain't been somethin' I can watch too easily since, y' know? some people go there hoping to see that" he hmphed as if the idea disgusted him. He didn't linger on the self-depreciating comment but the look he gave his own bottle might have suggested he had a few problems of his own.
He did grin almost ear to ear as Bazil choked "O' course I'm serious." He started chugging back his new bottle, not even bothering to look socially acceptable as he rose up and slammed the bottle down. "Chug it then, Rayhan." he said, giving poor Bazil barely a few seconds to get through his entire next beer as he reached out to grab the man by the wrist and hoist him playfully from his seat (or rather, impatiently... hurry up!)
The captain wasted no time in dancing himself over towards the area in front of the bard and the mixed units relaxing after work and immediately a few of his own men and women looked up in alarm and quickly hid their faces while others grinned and elbowed each other to laugh. Harken was drunk as hell, he'd feel embarrassed tomorrow but right now he was having the time of his life and dancing horribly. Like a drunk uncle at a wedding he rolled his arms and rocked his hips, flicking his tail to the music. He'd reach out to pull one of his unit off their table to the dance floor with them and the young woman couldn't stop laughing and blushing as if her damn granddad had pulled her over for a dance, looking back for her comrades to save her but they only laughed and clapped.
"You see any of yours, Rayhan? get em over here"
AJ — 03/13/2021
The lion wrinkled his nose at the description. "Some people're sadistic." And he left it at that. Though he had no deep attachment to any of the horses he'd had to ride in his line of work, he still treated them well, he knew their temperaments, he carried an apple or two. He drowned the end of that conversational thread in another gulp.
And then gaped and floundered like a fish when Harken stood and declared his intent. Was he still messing with him? Surely, right? This was a Cowardly Lion right here. But Harken was grabbing him out of his seat, and he hardly had time to voice another protest. The only thing he could think to do was obey that last command and chug down the rest of his beer as he fumbled to his feet. He muttered a "gods..." through grit teeth.
Harken was already busting out the moves, and it was only the power of the last couple of beers creeping up with him that he hadn't just turned and fled, and was instead standing stiffly beside him, very self-aware. Realizing that standing like an idiot in the middle of the floor with people dancing around him was about as bad as flapping his arms like a chicken, he opted for the latter, or something a little (vaguely, barely, arguably not at all) more graceful, keeping his tail low as not to trip up or harm anyone. He cast a fleeting glance towards the other tables and bar, spotting a few familiar faces sending him less-than-encouraging looks. "They're all Eberhardt's men, there's no chance in hell they'll get up here," he muttered low, not at all a comment on their character and just a simple statement of where their loyalties were--not with the brand new Captain shoved into place. He stifled a cross between a hiccup and a burp, that last chugged beer hitting him with a drunken fog.
Degu — 03/13/2021
Harken didn't have 'moves' but the key was that he didn't care either. He swayed and staggered around like a damn idiot, spinning the younger female guard around with one big hand as she laughed and pulled her boyfriend up to dance with them as well. "Oh never say never, Rayhan!" Bazil laughed as the music picked up, the bard seemed especially encouraged when Harken tossed a few shards in his hat.
The tavern was full of laughter and Harken was just happy to be a reason why his unit could smile and let loose. "They've got Harpur as a captain, they could use a dance!" he laughed "Besides" he elbowed Rayhan "They're your unit too for the time being, just go grab someone!- forget it, i'll do it" he recognized Harpur's men and women well enough and danced his way over towards them.
They were considerably more reserved, many of them human. One young man tensed and looked alarmed at his friends as he realized he was the target. Too late, Harken yanked him up and threw him towards Rayhan "Twirl, son! we're havin' fun tonight. Don't tell your captain" he laughed loudly as the lad staggered directly into Bazil and scrambled back nervously, he was just as embarrassed as Rayhan probably, not enough beers in his system.
But when he looked back? his friends were barely hiding their snickers and laughter behind their hands. He puffed up furiously and grabbed one of them up to dance with him by Bazil and that soon wiped the smile off his smug friend's face! They laughed and purposefully danced like idiots as they started to ease up, one of them grinning at Rayhan "Didn't know you were fun, captain. Not like Eberhardt" "SHHhhh-shhh-" his friend covered his mouth and drunkenly giggled.
"-They'll make us do lapssss tomorrow ssshhhhut up"
AJ — 03/14/2021
Bazil didn't have moves either, and maybe slightly more self-respect than he normally pretended he had, or otherwise that hadn't yet been smothered to death by booze. Despite Harken's words, he wasn't getting much more than stiff arms from Bazil, and he raised a hand to wave off the notion of dragging up one of 'his' men, only to have the man haul someone up for him.
Smacking into the man thrown at him, he caught him by the shoulders and mirrored his step back, blinking wide-eyed. There was that brief instance where everything stopped—before the guard turned back around to claim another victim. The lion looked bewildered, but was largely willing to go along with it, choking up some attempt at a hesitant, uncomfortable grin at the man's comment. The briefest sharp glance sent Harken's way in a 'what did you do??' plea. Did Harken slap someone so hard with Drunken Charisma to undo Harpur's influence? "No laps if this doesn't get back to Eberhardt. You've got my word." All while drunkenly twisting and waving his elbows in a drunk uncle's best impression of a drunk uncle.
Degu — 03/14/2021
Harken laughed loudly as he met that look "That's it, we won't tell anyone!" before too long, the shy guards hanging out at their tables mostly all came to join the dance and all the patrons who were simply there with friends and family to drink laughed and clapped along, or watched and gossiped but the guards didn't care anymore. A good evening of letting loose and getting drunk was much needed and Harken seemed to recognize that, even if he had to take the first embarrassing step.
He even reached out to grip the manticore's hands and swing them back and forth stupidly as they danced, laughing and leaving him alone after a moment to twirl one of Harpur's men around. No one was safe tonight. Saved by the bell, though, the bar bell rang noisily and a voice rang out "LAST ORDERS!"
The haggard captain hurried over to the bar and ordered a round for all of them, his fellow captain and the units who'd danced with them and with sweat glistening on his brow he downed one last beer after shoving one towards Bazil.
"Good stuff Rayhan, that's how you bond with your unit eh?" he slurred with a dumb grin.
AJ — 03/14/2021
Oh yeah, like them keeping their mouths shut would somehow prevent this from getting back to Harpur. Bazil knew it was just a matter of time, but that last drink was hitting his gut and he was putting a little more emphasis into the swing of his arms and hips. He was just starting to ease into it, tension leaving him as his movements became a little more fluid (not to be mistaken for Actual Moves or Grace), when Harken grabbed for his hands, swinging the manticore around in an awkward pirouette to face him.
The last call was welcomed, but what was even more welcomed was the beer shoved his way. Thirsty and dry from exertion, he downed it. "Yeah... We'll see if it sticks." Ever the pessimist, this one, but he'd been shoved with Harpur for a reason, and he didn't expect it was a good one. His unit bonding with him would probably only make tensions with the human captain worse.
Degu — 03/14/2021
Harken patted Bazil harshly on the back "Don' you let 'im get y' down. Y' his co-captain fa now... y' got as much say as he does...use that. Piss him off for all I care" the fellow slurred, technically drunk early in the morning as far as his usual schedule went. He stumbled for the door with the rest of the men and women who were still here and lingered outside to fumble with his cigarette tin. Placing a cigarette between his lips he offered one to Bazil. Regardless of whether or not Bazil took one he'd at least light his own cigarette and start staggering away idly "You good to get 'ome from 'ere, friend?" he asked as he looked back and smiled.
AJ — 03/14/2021
Bazil exhaled audibly at that clap, rubbing at his shoulder afterwards. He circled back clumsily to their table to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, before trailing out into the streets with the crowd. "We'll see." There was a weak chuckle. He didn't even have to try to piss Harpur off, he was already upset with his Existence. Being gracious, he took the offered cigarette, letting it hang from his lips. At least the men and women that had trailed out with them seemed more chummy, and he fixed a few with that unsteady smile, made more sloppy by the subtle drunken sway of his padded feet. He waited for most of them to pass on before answering, cig still in his teeth. "Yeah. I think I'm good. Not the first time I've had to make this walk half-gone." He swayed again and put a hand out to lean against the doorframe. He was a perpetual drunk, he was well-versed and running on muscle memory.
Degu — 03/14/2021
Harken grinned and nodded "You be careful... see y' next week maybe eh? same time?" aw, Bazil had made a friend. But with that the orcish-looking captain ambled off slowly along the canal, leaving Bazil on his own...or so he thought, anyway. Once the manticore was on his own, he'd hear a voice from behind him "So I have a few questions~" came a playful coo. Pascaal was hanging upside down, seemingly in mid air behind him with a flip book in hand and a pencil. His tongue stuck out to the side of his lips as he wrote slowly "Captain....Bazil... Rayhan... that's right, right? Did i spell it right?" he held it out to press it to the poor guys face but then let out a little 'oops!' then turned it the right way up and held it out again.
AJ — 03/14/2021
Bazil returned that grin, shoving his hands into his pockets and watching Harken turn and toddle off. Friend? Well shit. Maybe he had. It was a nice thought. His tail swayed low behind him, likely the only thing keeping him steady and upright. He used the momentum to swing himself around in the opposite direction, twisting with the sound of the voice. There was an extra beat or two where his foggy brain failed to catch up. "Uh... Yeah." It didn't help that he had a notepad shoved in his face, trying to read it upside-down, and then rightside-up, and as he reached up to finally push it away, recognition clicked. "...HEY!"
Degu — 03/14/2021
Pascaal giggled and swayed as the notepad was pushed away, almost as if he were hanging from an invisible pole. "Easy there, captain beer-breath. You're not catching a sleeping cow in that state, let alone Hy-Brazir's criminal mastermind extraordinaire!" he winked and pressed a single finger to Bazil's forehead between his eyes, pushing slightly as if to check his balance.
"Still sore that I broke outta the barracks after you nearly took a dip in the drink to catch me? honestly you should just be happy you caught me on your first encounter with me. Took Eberhardt about seventy attempts, pft. Hasn't got your cat-like reflexes... but then again neither do you right now." he laughed with a devilish stare and shit-eating grin.
"You married? any kids? divorced? Is this an everyday coping thing or do you only drink once a week? Are those dance moves contagious? would you consider yourself washed up?" he asked and started writing, peeking over the book repeatedly as if expecting answers.
AJ — 03/15/2021
Pascaal had a point; he was only barely aware enough to consider catching him, but not enough to make the attempt. The scoundrel pushed a fingers against his forehead, and the lion scrunched is face up in distaste, but his spiked tail was planted on the ground behind him, the tripod adding more than enough stability to prevent him from toppling over. It was probably the only thing preventing that.
"Can't say it was hard. Under the bridge? Really?" He scoffed—then hiccupped. Rookie mistake, bridges. Bazil's scowl was barely coherent, blurrily fixated on Pascaal with a low growl. The elf had a finely printed list of the manticore's Buttons, but he was supposed to bring this man in, so he wasn't about to smash his poisonously spiked tail into his face. "None've that's your business." He reached out to wrench the book from him with one hand, the other shooting out to grab at the scruff of his vest. "You're coming with me."
Degu — 03/15/2021
Pascaal gasped indignantly as his book was wrenched away "Captain! that's my book~" one could probably imagine the master thief had good enough reflexes to stop it from happening but he didn't bother. If someone got a hold of Pascaal or his belongings it was almost always because he allowed it to happen...almost, anyway.
The notepad just had Bazil's name on it and his current questions along with a rather bad drawing of a grumpy lion in the top right corner. When he was grabbed by the scruff of his vest he didn't stop hanging from ....whatever invisible force he was hanging from but the shit-eating smile only grew wider "Oh Captain~, what if someone sees? they might find out about us~" he purred and reached up from his upside-down stance to cup Bazil's cheeks (as well as pluck the cigarette away if it was still there) and lean in to press a big kiss straight to the poor guys lips "MWAH handsome, don't let the landlord catch us~" he announced a little loudly in a sing-song voice and glanced towards the tavern before he tried to go in for another kiss dramatically.
AJ — 03/16/2021
"Evidence," he grouched. He doubted there was anything material in there, but it felt worth a retort. The doodle got a little scowl, not unlike the crude drawing. Grabbing Pascaal's clothes, when he failed to come down from... Whatever he was hanging from, Bazil looked around him to scrutinize. "They'll think whatever they think. You're still coming to the guard house with me."
The lion's cheeks puffed indignantly, but he couldn't wrestle his head away from the thief's grasp at this angle. His entire face scrunched in a visceral recoil until he was released; left blinking, his lips and nose curled in a disgusted grimace. He didn't go so far as to spit dramatically, but turned his head far to one side to avoid that second attempt. "Seriously? No wonder you get under Eberhardt's skin. You're not my type. Come on." He started walking backwards, hoping to pull him off whatever invisible 'pole' he was hanging from.
Degu — 03/16/2021
Pascaal giggled joyously as the old man grouched "Oh calm down Pops~ You're my type~ ow hey-!" he concentrated a little harder as he felt the old manticore tugging on him "Seriously! A guy shows you a little affection and you close up, why's that? give me my notebook and we'll walk through the psycholog- ow!" he struggled to pull back, giggling "Come on handsome I get under everyone's skin~ Now...don't make it hard for yourself....is this worth dying for?" he asked more ominously and leaned to one side a little.
Behind him Bazil would see a man with iridescent black hair and narrowed eyes holding a crossbow up at him, pointed directly towards Bazil's face. "Now my friend here isn't as nice as I am~" he dropped down from where he was hanging and floated upright in Bazil's grip, lazily linking his arms around the manticore's neck like a damsel "I just want to know if you're worthy to chase me, Pops...I don't take too kindly to captain's pursuing me uninvited and you've already done that once already!"
AJ — 03/16/2021
"Then you've got bad taste." That was very self-deprecating. The old man probably just needed someone special. It didn't help that he was in several beers too many, and it was probably only his tail keeping him upright. He tried to twist Pascaal, as if that might get him loose from his ledge. "What?" As far as he'd gotten up until this point, the guy had come off as A Rapscallion Thief, and the threat caught him off guard. He looked to where the fae was drawing his attention, and quickly stepped back to put Pascaal squarely between him and the crossbow pointed in his direction.
"That charmed to go around your head?" Knowing his luck, it probably was, and they'd find him in the morning with a bolt in his eye. He'd still use Pascaal as a shield up until that moment. Brows still tensely scrunched, he looked down uneasily at the arms circling his neck. The snort, scoff, that escaped his lips might have been half drunken burp. "I'm not getting in the way've you and Eberhardt's romance, I'm just doing my job."
Degu — 03/16/2021
"No one gets to tell me that I have bad taste, old man... but it's cute that you think you're not adorable" he pinched the end of Bazil's nose with a scrunch of his own face and an impish smile. In regards to the threat he giggled and nodded "As a matter of fact, it is~ shoot him" he said with a suddenly cold stare and met Bazil's eyes emptily. The whoosh of the arrow was sharp and sudden, curving around Pascaal's head and striking Bazil harshly in the eye. It sounded real, everything looked real...until the point of impact when the arrow just went through Bazil's head but he'd be a god if he didn't flinch.
AJ — 03/17/2021
The lion's face was still twisted in a disgruntled grimace. One compliment, fine, but adorable? "Best compliment I got all night," he snarked flatly, and then snorted, trying to wrench his nose free of Pascaal's pinch. No, Harken had brightened up his mood much better by just Being a Bro. The thief wasn't coming loose from his ledge, and he was running out of ideas.
The manticore sucked in air, eyes widening at the threat and immediately reacting to stumble to one side, trying to keep Pascaal between him and the arrow—it passed through his face and he jerked away, his tail raising and spiking. It was the only thing that had been keeping him steady, and the drunk guard lost his balance, falling hard to one knee but forgetting to let go of the fae. "Shit." It took him a few sloshed moments to realize he didn't have a shaft sticking out of his eyeball.
Fidele Pascaal — 03/19/2021
Pascaal barely managed to slip out of the drunks grip as the man fell, but only by sliding out of his favourite jacket and scrambling back away with a pout but not before crashing into the guy as he was partially dragged down "Aw I like that jacket, you better keep it safe!" he huffed petulantly and put his hands on his hips.
"Gotta say, Pops, for being pickled you're pretty good at gettin' your hands on me. I like that~ You pass the test for now" he tapped a finger to his own lips thoughtfully.
"Still got a lot to learn about me, handsome. You have permission to chase me alongside Captain Eberhardt." he winked and turned to leap from the ground up to the roof of the tavern with a strange bounce and a push of levitation magic. He perched on the edge and swung his leg slyly back and forth "See you at my next theft? I'll schedule it just for you."
AJ — 03/19/2021
Bazil was left lying on the pavement, blinking stupidly and clutching a flimsy little coat more built for Flare than Substance. If he were more spiteful, he'd claw a couple holes in it. "Seriously." He got why this guy got under Harpur's skin.. He didn't want any prize, especially if that prize was 'worthy of Pascaal's harassment'.
He managed to push himself up onto one elbow, but the manticore knew that there was no way in hell he'd be able to scramble to his feet and after the fae now, so he watched Pascaal from the ground with that same tired stare, more a grimace than anything intimidating. He almost said 'fuck me' again, but thought better of it this time. "Oh, fantastic." It was a date then.
If Fidele left him there, the lion would recline onto his back against the pavement again, to be passed by late-night walkers embarrassedly averting their eyes from the Drunk on the Sidewalk.
Fidele Pascaal — 03/19/2021
Pascaal giggled and saluted "Until next time then, mon capitaine!" and with that he turned and disappeared up and over the rooftops, leaving Bazil there to pick himself up off the floor.
[FIN]
AJ — 03/19/2021
Spoilers: Bazil does not pick himself up off the floor.
[FIN]
Captain Harken's days off were rare things, he was notorious for working a few weeks straight at a time without breaks and perhaps in this way he wasn't unlike some of the other captains. A good number of the men and women who commanded the city's units were workaholics that never knew when to stop, many of them driven by a need to keep the city safe and sadly that was a drive that never slept. Given how strictly he stuck to night-shift, one could probably consider his appearance in the tavern his equivalent to 'morning drinking', he certainly looked like he'd just woken up.
Clouds of smoke hung in the air around the strange fellow as he smoked and nursed his second bottle of beer in the corner of the room. An empty bowl of something sat off to the side, it had probably been stew or pasta from the smell of it. If anything he looked like he needed coffee more than beer, but on his days off he took what time he could to drink in a bar like a normal patron, dressed in simple clothes and enjoying what little peace he could find in the bustle.
Rook — 03/06/2021
Much like the Captain, Quinne had decided to take a break from the butcher shop that day. He spent most of the evening with his sons, taking them through the city and spending an evening having dinner in a restaurant (Zaffre with them as well!). With the others taking a rest for the night at home, he decided to wander a bit and see if the tavern supplied anything he could have that was more blood and less alcohol.
Asking, though, wasn't so easy. Instead, once he got there, the vampire just went with a dry red wine. Harken was eyed, though he merely held up a hand in greeting to the Captain, instead of outright approaching. Yet. "The wine is good, thank you." He said when asked if he wanted more. "You look like you've had a rough night." Not an approach, but Quinne figured it wouldn't hurt to be friendly...ish.
Degu — 03/06/2021
Harken's deeply shadowed eyes looked up from his bottle and he grunted "This is my morning, son." he chuckled deeply, though the laughter didn't sound genuine. He was just echoing social graces he'd learned to be acceptable no matter his mood. He set the bottle down and took a longer drag on his cigarette(? or pipe, TBA). True laughter or not, he wasn't cold "I'm just tryin' to wake up" the subtle tusks tugged at his lips, making his words more gruff and less complete than he ever really intended them.
His long tiefling-like tail unfurled from behind the chair to wrap idly around a different leg of his chair, his shoulders rolled and his neck cracked and popped with the strain of wearing heavy armor for weeks. He was a sore old bastard to say the least.
Rook — 03/06/2021
"Rough morning, then." Quinne corrected himself with a slight incline of his head, and while the laughter's tone was unexpected, the lack of coldness had him sure the guy really wanted him to leave him be. "I understand. The coffee here can be pretty strong, I've been told, at this hour." A tentative suggestion.
He took up a barstool at the counter, and turned to face the door, holding his glass with one clawed hand. He'd been less concerned about keeping his nails trimmed, but on a regular basis, it was annoying. Plus, he was still getting used to the temporary prosthetic he wore.
AJ — 03/06/2021
If Harken was "Morning Drinking", Bazil was... dragging his tired ass in after a long day for a regular, after-work, "drink it all away" session. This one couldn't be blamed on Harpur. A lot could be blamed on Harpur, but he'd had this problem long before that. Having walked himself home long enough to strip off his heavy armour, it was with a simple tunic and pants that he made his way to the tavern. Still, he walked with the invisible weight of it, his greying mane brushed back by only the power of his fingers, the old man's shoulders faintly stooped.
He paused in the doorway and took quick stock of tonight's patrons, eyes settling on Harken with a bit of recognition. The old lion-man grinned with surface niceties, a tired, lopsided, and vaguely toothy expression. Bazil nearly spoke, but realized he'd be interrupting an ongoing conversation; he waited for a lull, not really taking in the words. Or else he'd realize they'd had an entire exchange about the exact joke he was about to enact. His greeting was all gruff jest and irony. "'Morning." Har har har.
Degu — 03/07/2021
Don grunted, rough morning indeed. He always looked this damn rough "Coffee an' alcohol don't mix, son. I enjoy a beer while I can, gotta be sensible all the rest of the week" The new captain (at least, this side of town) walked in and Harken lifted his head. The fellow was hard to forget with his unique appearance and the captain could sense they were both likely as tired and mothbeaten as the other. He smirked and laughed when the fellow captain greeted him, more genuine this time. He motioned towards Quinne with the cigarette between his fingers "We were just talkin' about it bein' my morning... You're Captain Rayhan, hm? Can't say I've had the chance to talk to you....n' give you my condolences" he rumbled with a tusky grin but a sympathetic stare.
He kicked the chair opposite him out invitingly "Take a load off....hows it been ...? working with Eberhardt." he raised a hand to the barkeep "On my tab, friend." and with that he pointed to Rayhan. "Harpur ain't too keen on our sort... wish I understood Chief de Ovando's decision."
Rook — 03/07/2021
"Wouldn't really know." Quinne said with a shrug and looked over to the new person who arrived, another Captain. He merely nodded to the man and slid off his seat, taking a quick sip of wine. It wouldn't take long for him to take a drink and he'd set the glass aside, paying up after. "Thank you." And with that, the vampire headed for the door. Perhaps a walk elsewhere wouldn't hurt.
AJ — 03/07/2021
Bazil laughed, looked to Quinne with the man's nod. "Yeah? Guess everyone respectable's heading out." Nodding his chin to return the vampire's greeting, a hand raised politely. But Quinne was headed out the door (being an aforementioned Respectable Folk), and the manticore sidestepped to watch him go. "And yeah, I am." His chest rumbled with a low laugh at that, although he avoided, for now, outright slandering Harpur.
The offered chair was a welcome sight, expecting he'd be drinking alone in 'this part of town'. He moved to sit heavily, resting one arm on the edge of the table so he could turn and watch for his beer. "Just... Tiring. No, he's not. Best guess from me is the Chief's trying to teach him a lesson. Or change his world views." At his expense, evidently.
Degu — 03/07/2021
Harken kept a lazy smirk "You sayin' I'm not respectable, Rayhan?" he accused with what little playfulness there was in him, leaning to watch Quinne leave "Nice kid, friendly." didn't stay long though, maybe they'd meet again. Everyone was a 'kid' to him if they had vaguely youthful features by his standards, he was a craggy looking old bastard.
"Heard you two caught Pascaal together though." he said with an eyebrow raise hidden behind a gulp of his beer "Didn't think him the sort to work with anyone too well, wish I'd been there to see it really. Shame Pascaal escaped...always does, maybe if we get all his associates next time there won't be anyone to break the bastard out." he shrugged and raised two fingers to order them both another round before Bazil had even started the first, making his plans to get drunk pretty clear.
AJ — 03/07/2021
"I'm not respectable. You're day-drinking." It was with a mixture of general fatigue and a long-departed ability to Give a Shit that he was, perhaps, acting a little too familiar. Bazil could only hoped his haggard, lined face and grey mane was enough to avoid 'kid'.
"Mm. He's a smart leader." He could give Harpur that. His drink arrived, and he pulled it close, perhaps a little too antsy to get something in-hand. "I pulled him out from under the bridge. Eberhardt was pretty elated." He wouldn't go so far as to say they 'worked well together'—maybe, passably, when they hadn't been butting heads and had actually gotten down to things. It remained to be seen if any of that lasted. "They've got some old rivalry going on." Bazil would almost call it a pining romance. Just... not to Harpur's face. He brought his mug up to his fuzzy lips, just as Harken waved in another round, and the manticore snorted openly, a lopsided, craggy smile. He could get behind getting shitfaced.
Degu — 03/08/2021
Don's tusks bared in an even bigger grin then "No one needs to know i'm 'day' drinkin'" he said with a conspiratorial glance around the room "If I didn' day drink I'd have less of a social life than I do now. My hours don't exactly lend to bein' some social butterfly." he mumbled and took long gulps of his second bottle of beer, not seeming to much care what Bazil thought of him chugging down the entire damn thing to get started. He was a sober, stand up example to the rest of the city every other day of the week but this one. Tonight he needed a damn drink.
"Hmph. They ought to get a bedroom already." he said gruffly with the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his lips. Harpur would've been furious but his obsessive tendencies definitely resulted in a few rumors floating around the barracks, no matter how fictional they were. Bazil wasn't the first one to come up with such a theory. "Maybe you'll be the one to get him out of his old ways huh? Doubt it, but maybe swine can fly after all."
AJ — 03/08/2021
Bazil settled back into his seat. The tension was still there in his shoulders, but a good swig from his own beer helped release at least some of it. Of everyone who could have joined Harken, the alcoholic manticore was the least likely to judge. Poor self esteem from his own drinking-problem kept all of that to himself. He took long, languid sips, hissing a comfortable exhale.
"No shit." Oops, did he mean to say that one out loud? He raised a hand to his face, playing it off by idly wiping his whiskers. "The guy flirts up a storm. Probably to get under Harpur's skin; can't tell if he notices, though." It had mostly bewildered Bazil, who'd never really had (albeit clearly taunting, antagonistic) Attentions directed his way. The snort that followed was mirthless, the lion's eyes on his half-empty drink. "I think he'd sooner leave me in a ditch. Guess we'll see."
Degu — 03/08/2021
Don let out a deep bark of laughter at the rather strong agreement "Probably. He's good at that, getting under peoples skin...especially within the guard. He exploits weaknesses, nothing less than I'd expect of a fae anyway." he said it without any real 'racism', more just simple acknowledgement. Fae were known for their trickery, it was no big taboo to point it out in a general sense. "Why? did he come after you too? ...Maybe I should capture the guy once in a while, might be nice to feel appreciated" he half-joked, nodding a thanks as a lady brought them the beers he'd just ordered.
He was back to drinking pretty much immediately. "You're probably right. He has probably killed enough of your sort in the past, probably sees this as some big insult." he rolled his eyes but then glanced around and leaned in a little closer "Been hearing things from his unit though. They've been saying he's hearing voices... is that true?"
AJ — 03/08/2021
"Yeah, he made some comments. Harpur's the apple of his eye, though." The manticore almost snorted a second time, tipping his chair back in a fidget to hide that amusement. "Most attention I'll ever get." Woe, two old guys complaining about being underappreciated. Bazil looked at his half-finished beer as the next arrived, contemplating chugging the rest. He took one big gulp to finish it, but didn't immediately chug the next one, keeping a more leisurely pace.
"Pretty sure I'm supposed to be one big insult. Don't want to talk ill've the Chief, but that's all I'm there for." They could have chosen someone more competent, less drunk. The manticore leaned his bushy head in, but there was a hesitation and an introverted look as he mulled over how to approach it. The silence before his answer stretched just long enough to be suspect. "Seems like he likes to sound his problems outloud, if I had to guess." The lie was plausibly vague enough to avoid outright throwing Harpur under the bus. Though he didn't meet Harken's eye.
Degu — 03/08/2021
Don barely stifled a wheezing laugh at the comment about Pascaal and Harpur, though what came next made the slightly buzzing captain shake his head and raise a beer "You just haven't met the right person yet, you're a good lookin' lion." he couldn't help chuckling at how weird it sounded, the buzz of alcohol three beers down certainly made him care a helluva lot less. He motioned to his own neck in a flowing wave "Luxurious, curly locks. A strong jaw. And what says security like a tail covered in spikes?" he grinned almost ear to ear. "Relationships aren't all they crack up to be anyway. Hard in a line of work like ours, unsociable hours and a demand for dedication." he trailed off a little more sadly. His fingers twitched and his thumb rubbed over a certain, bare ring finger as if by nervous tick.
"You're not. de Ovando isn't like that...you're probably just in trouble for something too" he grinned and lightly kicked the Manticore under the table "What'd you do to piss him off, huh?" but he saw the way Bazil looked away when he asked about his partner and sighed, smiling and shaking his head "He doesn't deserve a loyal partner like you. If you have worries...do go speak to the chief, at least? ...lot of us would be glad to see Eberhardt go, honestly."
AJ — 03/10/2021
"Yeah? The tail's what usually gets people." A poisonous ball of murder-spikes wasn't most people's cup of tea, but maybe to each their own. But he couldn't help the craggy, toothy grin and derisive snort that escaped, just over his beer. "Yeah, all right. I'm proud of my mane." He ran his fingers through the long hair under his chin, but sobered (har) from there. "Yeah. It is." They both paused at the same time, creating an awkward silence that Bazil then stumbled through by clearing his throat quietly.
"Probably," he echoed, his humour returning. He retaliated with a blind kick back. "I'm sure being old and washed up was enough." So what'd that mean for Don? He tried to keep that off-kilter grin, faltering with another gruff sound. "Yeah. I will. Whatever's going on in Eberhardt's head. If it hurts the townsfolk..." He trailed, thoughtful, then shook his bushy head and took another swig of his beer. Harpur could be a racist prat, but he seemed to put the city first, always. If that changed, whether Harpur was intentionally malicious—well, he'd figure it out, he supposed.
Realizing he'd finished his beer, he was glad then Harken already had another waiting for him, and reached for it.
Degu — 03/10/2021
Harken raised a bottle to Bazil's own as soon as the captain reached for the next, seeking to knock the necks of the bottles together in a mock toast "You're alright, Rayhan. Can't say I get on with a lot of folk, you're pretty darn easy to talk to though." he admitted as if quite appreciative of that.
Maybe it was jut easier to talk to an equally exhausted looking drunk though, not that he wanted to think about it that way.
"Maybe a good thing you're in trouble huh? Otherwise I wouldn't have me a drinking partner tonight... you keep an eye on that Eberhardt though."
He enjoyed his beer in silence then for a while, seeming comfortable to just sit back and enjoy his beer and do some people watching. A bard started playing at the far end of the tavern and Harken smiled somberly at the sight of a young couple pulling each other to an empty space in the tavern to dance and toss shards to the bard.
Perhaps a longing sigh left him "Young love" he chuckled idly and took an especially long swig of his beer before looking to Bazil "Gotta wonder if we've got what it takes to be buddies. You got a hobby? ...this doesn't count" he smirked and shook the bottle, not realizing that might have hit a little deep.
AJ — 03/11/2021
"I try to go with the flow. Something about honey and vinegar." He clinked bottles and quenched his thirst. "You're not bad yourself." Bazil definitely noted this might be a case of Tired Drunk Comradery, but he was just self-destructive enough not to care. He snorted again. "Guess I'm just a trouble-maker. I'll watch my back." He wasn't yet sure if Harpur was lethally malicious, or just the type to shove him off a bridge.
He followed Harken's gaze, resting the mouth of the bottle against his lower lip. "Guess I'm a pessimist." At least he avoided some gripe about it 'not lasting'. "We got a slim few-hour window between day-shift and night-shift to make it work," he joked with raised eyebrows and his index finger uncurling from his bottle to point at him. It was brief, and he looked down at that bottle. "Fuck, that's hard. I don't know. I used to tinker. I don't do much of that anymore. Collect firearms."
Degu — 03/11/2021
Harken raised a finger again to call for another beer, apparently he was enough of a regular they trusted him to have a tab because no one asked for straight up payment.
He seemed to grunt in somber agreement when Bazil stated his pessimism, neither of them said it but the thought seemed to hang in the air between them nonetheless. The subject matter moved on and Harken seemed grateful for it even though he'd brought the previous topic up himself. He was starting to feel the warm buzz of whatever strong beer the bar staff had been bringing him now, the room wasn't as static as it should have been. "Firearms huh? That's interesting. Probably more interesting than me, I'm too married to m' work to have much else going on. Gotta say I enjoy sports, my schedule doesn't allow for it cept on m' days off...sometimes on m' days off i'll get on down to the coliseum and keep m' eyes open long enough to see a game." he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Would do more hiking if i had the time!" he chuckled deeply, a lot 'happier' than when he'd first come in here. His mood was picking up at last. "I like good music" he nodded towards the bard and tapped his foot, grinning tuskily.
"Almost makes y' want to dance" he said as he knocked back the last of his previous bottle "You want to kick up the dance floor n' embarrass our units? I think I see a few of mine sittin' over there." Thanks, liquid courage, really helpful.
AJ — 03/13/2021
Hey, Bazil was getting booze out of it, he wasn't questioning anything and was perfectly appreciative. He brought his bottle to his lips again, taking another sip and letting it hang there as he people-watched. "I'm trying to diversify. It's not sticking. More time spent doing this." He waggled the bottle and had to hold in that self-deprecating smirk. "You a fan of two guys hitting each other, or one of the other sports?" You know, the ones with rules. ...That still usually ended with two guys hitting each other.
"Hiking's not bad, assuming you're on good terms with the forest, I guess. It's quiet..." It actually didn't sound half bad, right now. ...Until he had to pick ticks out of his fur. Nevermind. Bazil took another swig, attention turning towards the bard he had nodded to. "Yeah, I can agree there." But he chuckled, quickly turning into a loud, wet cough as he choked on his mouthful of beer. He pressed a fist to his lips. "Are you serious!?" He looked at the few loitering off-duty men, alarmed. "I think I need at least another beer 'for I can manage that."
Degu — 03/13/2021
"I like two guys hittin' each other n' a bit o' football. Chariot racing sometimes, hard not t' feel bad for the horses though...n' the young racers that fall off, saw one guy go under three horses one time and it ain't been somethin' I can watch too easily since, y' know? some people go there hoping to see that" he hmphed as if the idea disgusted him. He didn't linger on the self-depreciating comment but the look he gave his own bottle might have suggested he had a few problems of his own.
He did grin almost ear to ear as Bazil choked "O' course I'm serious." He started chugging back his new bottle, not even bothering to look socially acceptable as he rose up and slammed the bottle down. "Chug it then, Rayhan." he said, giving poor Bazil barely a few seconds to get through his entire next beer as he reached out to grab the man by the wrist and hoist him playfully from his seat (or rather, impatiently... hurry up!)
The captain wasted no time in dancing himself over towards the area in front of the bard and the mixed units relaxing after work and immediately a few of his own men and women looked up in alarm and quickly hid their faces while others grinned and elbowed each other to laugh. Harken was drunk as hell, he'd feel embarrassed tomorrow but right now he was having the time of his life and dancing horribly. Like a drunk uncle at a wedding he rolled his arms and rocked his hips, flicking his tail to the music. He'd reach out to pull one of his unit off their table to the dance floor with them and the young woman couldn't stop laughing and blushing as if her damn granddad had pulled her over for a dance, looking back for her comrades to save her but they only laughed and clapped.
"You see any of yours, Rayhan? get em over here"
AJ — 03/13/2021
The lion wrinkled his nose at the description. "Some people're sadistic." And he left it at that. Though he had no deep attachment to any of the horses he'd had to ride in his line of work, he still treated them well, he knew their temperaments, he carried an apple or two. He drowned the end of that conversational thread in another gulp.
And then gaped and floundered like a fish when Harken stood and declared his intent. Was he still messing with him? Surely, right? This was a Cowardly Lion right here. But Harken was grabbing him out of his seat, and he hardly had time to voice another protest. The only thing he could think to do was obey that last command and chug down the rest of his beer as he fumbled to his feet. He muttered a "gods..." through grit teeth.
Harken was already busting out the moves, and it was only the power of the last couple of beers creeping up with him that he hadn't just turned and fled, and was instead standing stiffly beside him, very self-aware. Realizing that standing like an idiot in the middle of the floor with people dancing around him was about as bad as flapping his arms like a chicken, he opted for the latter, or something a little (vaguely, barely, arguably not at all) more graceful, keeping his tail low as not to trip up or harm anyone. He cast a fleeting glance towards the other tables and bar, spotting a few familiar faces sending him less-than-encouraging looks. "They're all Eberhardt's men, there's no chance in hell they'll get up here," he muttered low, not at all a comment on their character and just a simple statement of where their loyalties were--not with the brand new Captain shoved into place. He stifled a cross between a hiccup and a burp, that last chugged beer hitting him with a drunken fog.
Degu — 03/13/2021
Harken didn't have 'moves' but the key was that he didn't care either. He swayed and staggered around like a damn idiot, spinning the younger female guard around with one big hand as she laughed and pulled her boyfriend up to dance with them as well. "Oh never say never, Rayhan!" Bazil laughed as the music picked up, the bard seemed especially encouraged when Harken tossed a few shards in his hat.
The tavern was full of laughter and Harken was just happy to be a reason why his unit could smile and let loose. "They've got Harpur as a captain, they could use a dance!" he laughed "Besides" he elbowed Rayhan "They're your unit too for the time being, just go grab someone!- forget it, i'll do it" he recognized Harpur's men and women well enough and danced his way over towards them.
They were considerably more reserved, many of them human. One young man tensed and looked alarmed at his friends as he realized he was the target. Too late, Harken yanked him up and threw him towards Rayhan "Twirl, son! we're havin' fun tonight. Don't tell your captain" he laughed loudly as the lad staggered directly into Bazil and scrambled back nervously, he was just as embarrassed as Rayhan probably, not enough beers in his system.
But when he looked back? his friends were barely hiding their snickers and laughter behind their hands. He puffed up furiously and grabbed one of them up to dance with him by Bazil and that soon wiped the smile off his smug friend's face! They laughed and purposefully danced like idiots as they started to ease up, one of them grinning at Rayhan "Didn't know you were fun, captain. Not like Eberhardt" "SHHhhh-shhh-" his friend covered his mouth and drunkenly giggled.
"-They'll make us do lapssss tomorrow ssshhhhut up"
AJ — 03/14/2021
Bazil didn't have moves either, and maybe slightly more self-respect than he normally pretended he had, or otherwise that hadn't yet been smothered to death by booze. Despite Harken's words, he wasn't getting much more than stiff arms from Bazil, and he raised a hand to wave off the notion of dragging up one of 'his' men, only to have the man haul someone up for him.
Smacking into the man thrown at him, he caught him by the shoulders and mirrored his step back, blinking wide-eyed. There was that brief instance where everything stopped—before the guard turned back around to claim another victim. The lion looked bewildered, but was largely willing to go along with it, choking up some attempt at a hesitant, uncomfortable grin at the man's comment. The briefest sharp glance sent Harken's way in a 'what did you do??' plea. Did Harken slap someone so hard with Drunken Charisma to undo Harpur's influence? "No laps if this doesn't get back to Eberhardt. You've got my word." All while drunkenly twisting and waving his elbows in a drunk uncle's best impression of a drunk uncle.
Degu — 03/14/2021
Harken laughed loudly as he met that look "That's it, we won't tell anyone!" before too long, the shy guards hanging out at their tables mostly all came to join the dance and all the patrons who were simply there with friends and family to drink laughed and clapped along, or watched and gossiped but the guards didn't care anymore. A good evening of letting loose and getting drunk was much needed and Harken seemed to recognize that, even if he had to take the first embarrassing step.
He even reached out to grip the manticore's hands and swing them back and forth stupidly as they danced, laughing and leaving him alone after a moment to twirl one of Harpur's men around. No one was safe tonight. Saved by the bell, though, the bar bell rang noisily and a voice rang out "LAST ORDERS!"
The haggard captain hurried over to the bar and ordered a round for all of them, his fellow captain and the units who'd danced with them and with sweat glistening on his brow he downed one last beer after shoving one towards Bazil.
"Good stuff Rayhan, that's how you bond with your unit eh?" he slurred with a dumb grin.
AJ — 03/14/2021
Oh yeah, like them keeping their mouths shut would somehow prevent this from getting back to Harpur. Bazil knew it was just a matter of time, but that last drink was hitting his gut and he was putting a little more emphasis into the swing of his arms and hips. He was just starting to ease into it, tension leaving him as his movements became a little more fluid (not to be mistaken for Actual Moves or Grace), when Harken grabbed for his hands, swinging the manticore around in an awkward pirouette to face him.
The last call was welcomed, but what was even more welcomed was the beer shoved his way. Thirsty and dry from exertion, he downed it. "Yeah... We'll see if it sticks." Ever the pessimist, this one, but he'd been shoved with Harpur for a reason, and he didn't expect it was a good one. His unit bonding with him would probably only make tensions with the human captain worse.
Degu — 03/14/2021
Harken patted Bazil harshly on the back "Don' you let 'im get y' down. Y' his co-captain fa now... y' got as much say as he does...use that. Piss him off for all I care" the fellow slurred, technically drunk early in the morning as far as his usual schedule went. He stumbled for the door with the rest of the men and women who were still here and lingered outside to fumble with his cigarette tin. Placing a cigarette between his lips he offered one to Bazil. Regardless of whether or not Bazil took one he'd at least light his own cigarette and start staggering away idly "You good to get 'ome from 'ere, friend?" he asked as he looked back and smiled.
AJ — 03/14/2021
Bazil exhaled audibly at that clap, rubbing at his shoulder afterwards. He circled back clumsily to their table to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, before trailing out into the streets with the crowd. "We'll see." There was a weak chuckle. He didn't even have to try to piss Harpur off, he was already upset with his Existence. Being gracious, he took the offered cigarette, letting it hang from his lips. At least the men and women that had trailed out with them seemed more chummy, and he fixed a few with that unsteady smile, made more sloppy by the subtle drunken sway of his padded feet. He waited for most of them to pass on before answering, cig still in his teeth. "Yeah. I think I'm good. Not the first time I've had to make this walk half-gone." He swayed again and put a hand out to lean against the doorframe. He was a perpetual drunk, he was well-versed and running on muscle memory.
Degu — 03/14/2021
Harken grinned and nodded "You be careful... see y' next week maybe eh? same time?" aw, Bazil had made a friend. But with that the orcish-looking captain ambled off slowly along the canal, leaving Bazil on his own...or so he thought, anyway. Once the manticore was on his own, he'd hear a voice from behind him "So I have a few questions~" came a playful coo. Pascaal was hanging upside down, seemingly in mid air behind him with a flip book in hand and a pencil. His tongue stuck out to the side of his lips as he wrote slowly "Captain....Bazil... Rayhan... that's right, right? Did i spell it right?" he held it out to press it to the poor guys face but then let out a little 'oops!' then turned it the right way up and held it out again.
AJ — 03/14/2021
Bazil returned that grin, shoving his hands into his pockets and watching Harken turn and toddle off. Friend? Well shit. Maybe he had. It was a nice thought. His tail swayed low behind him, likely the only thing keeping him steady and upright. He used the momentum to swing himself around in the opposite direction, twisting with the sound of the voice. There was an extra beat or two where his foggy brain failed to catch up. "Uh... Yeah." It didn't help that he had a notepad shoved in his face, trying to read it upside-down, and then rightside-up, and as he reached up to finally push it away, recognition clicked. "...HEY!"
Degu — 03/14/2021
Pascaal giggled and swayed as the notepad was pushed away, almost as if he were hanging from an invisible pole. "Easy there, captain beer-breath. You're not catching a sleeping cow in that state, let alone Hy-Brazir's criminal mastermind extraordinaire!" he winked and pressed a single finger to Bazil's forehead between his eyes, pushing slightly as if to check his balance.
"Still sore that I broke outta the barracks after you nearly took a dip in the drink to catch me? honestly you should just be happy you caught me on your first encounter with me. Took Eberhardt about seventy attempts, pft. Hasn't got your cat-like reflexes... but then again neither do you right now." he laughed with a devilish stare and shit-eating grin.
"You married? any kids? divorced? Is this an everyday coping thing or do you only drink once a week? Are those dance moves contagious? would you consider yourself washed up?" he asked and started writing, peeking over the book repeatedly as if expecting answers.
AJ — 03/15/2021
Pascaal had a point; he was only barely aware enough to consider catching him, but not enough to make the attempt. The scoundrel pushed a fingers against his forehead, and the lion scrunched is face up in distaste, but his spiked tail was planted on the ground behind him, the tripod adding more than enough stability to prevent him from toppling over. It was probably the only thing preventing that.
"Can't say it was hard. Under the bridge? Really?" He scoffed—then hiccupped. Rookie mistake, bridges. Bazil's scowl was barely coherent, blurrily fixated on Pascaal with a low growl. The elf had a finely printed list of the manticore's Buttons, but he was supposed to bring this man in, so he wasn't about to smash his poisonously spiked tail into his face. "None've that's your business." He reached out to wrench the book from him with one hand, the other shooting out to grab at the scruff of his vest. "You're coming with me."
Degu — 03/15/2021
Pascaal gasped indignantly as his book was wrenched away "Captain! that's my book~" one could probably imagine the master thief had good enough reflexes to stop it from happening but he didn't bother. If someone got a hold of Pascaal or his belongings it was almost always because he allowed it to happen...almost, anyway.
The notepad just had Bazil's name on it and his current questions along with a rather bad drawing of a grumpy lion in the top right corner. When he was grabbed by the scruff of his vest he didn't stop hanging from ....whatever invisible force he was hanging from but the shit-eating smile only grew wider "Oh Captain~, what if someone sees? they might find out about us~" he purred and reached up from his upside-down stance to cup Bazil's cheeks (as well as pluck the cigarette away if it was still there) and lean in to press a big kiss straight to the poor guys lips "MWAH handsome, don't let the landlord catch us~" he announced a little loudly in a sing-song voice and glanced towards the tavern before he tried to go in for another kiss dramatically.
AJ — 03/16/2021
"Evidence," he grouched. He doubted there was anything material in there, but it felt worth a retort. The doodle got a little scowl, not unlike the crude drawing. Grabbing Pascaal's clothes, when he failed to come down from... Whatever he was hanging from, Bazil looked around him to scrutinize. "They'll think whatever they think. You're still coming to the guard house with me."
The lion's cheeks puffed indignantly, but he couldn't wrestle his head away from the thief's grasp at this angle. His entire face scrunched in a visceral recoil until he was released; left blinking, his lips and nose curled in a disgusted grimace. He didn't go so far as to spit dramatically, but turned his head far to one side to avoid that second attempt. "Seriously? No wonder you get under Eberhardt's skin. You're not my type. Come on." He started walking backwards, hoping to pull him off whatever invisible 'pole' he was hanging from.
Degu — 03/16/2021
Pascaal giggled joyously as the old man grouched "Oh calm down Pops~ You're my type~ ow hey-!" he concentrated a little harder as he felt the old manticore tugging on him "Seriously! A guy shows you a little affection and you close up, why's that? give me my notebook and we'll walk through the psycholog- ow!" he struggled to pull back, giggling "Come on handsome I get under everyone's skin~ Now...don't make it hard for yourself....is this worth dying for?" he asked more ominously and leaned to one side a little.
Behind him Bazil would see a man with iridescent black hair and narrowed eyes holding a crossbow up at him, pointed directly towards Bazil's face. "Now my friend here isn't as nice as I am~" he dropped down from where he was hanging and floated upright in Bazil's grip, lazily linking his arms around the manticore's neck like a damsel "I just want to know if you're worthy to chase me, Pops...I don't take too kindly to captain's pursuing me uninvited and you've already done that once already!"
AJ — 03/16/2021
"Then you've got bad taste." That was very self-deprecating. The old man probably just needed someone special. It didn't help that he was in several beers too many, and it was probably only his tail keeping him upright. He tried to twist Pascaal, as if that might get him loose from his ledge. "What?" As far as he'd gotten up until this point, the guy had come off as A Rapscallion Thief, and the threat caught him off guard. He looked to where the fae was drawing his attention, and quickly stepped back to put Pascaal squarely between him and the crossbow pointed in his direction.
"That charmed to go around your head?" Knowing his luck, it probably was, and they'd find him in the morning with a bolt in his eye. He'd still use Pascaal as a shield up until that moment. Brows still tensely scrunched, he looked down uneasily at the arms circling his neck. The snort, scoff, that escaped his lips might have been half drunken burp. "I'm not getting in the way've you and Eberhardt's romance, I'm just doing my job."
Degu — 03/16/2021
"No one gets to tell me that I have bad taste, old man... but it's cute that you think you're not adorable" he pinched the end of Bazil's nose with a scrunch of his own face and an impish smile. In regards to the threat he giggled and nodded "As a matter of fact, it is~ shoot him" he said with a suddenly cold stare and met Bazil's eyes emptily. The whoosh of the arrow was sharp and sudden, curving around Pascaal's head and striking Bazil harshly in the eye. It sounded real, everything looked real...until the point of impact when the arrow just went through Bazil's head but he'd be a god if he didn't flinch.
AJ — 03/17/2021
The lion's face was still twisted in a disgruntled grimace. One compliment, fine, but adorable? "Best compliment I got all night," he snarked flatly, and then snorted, trying to wrench his nose free of Pascaal's pinch. No, Harken had brightened up his mood much better by just Being a Bro. The thief wasn't coming loose from his ledge, and he was running out of ideas.
The manticore sucked in air, eyes widening at the threat and immediately reacting to stumble to one side, trying to keep Pascaal between him and the arrow—it passed through his face and he jerked away, his tail raising and spiking. It was the only thing that had been keeping him steady, and the drunk guard lost his balance, falling hard to one knee but forgetting to let go of the fae. "Shit." It took him a few sloshed moments to realize he didn't have a shaft sticking out of his eyeball.
Fidele Pascaal — 03/19/2021
Pascaal barely managed to slip out of the drunks grip as the man fell, but only by sliding out of his favourite jacket and scrambling back away with a pout but not before crashing into the guy as he was partially dragged down "Aw I like that jacket, you better keep it safe!" he huffed petulantly and put his hands on his hips.
"Gotta say, Pops, for being pickled you're pretty good at gettin' your hands on me. I like that~ You pass the test for now" he tapped a finger to his own lips thoughtfully.
"Still got a lot to learn about me, handsome. You have permission to chase me alongside Captain Eberhardt." he winked and turned to leap from the ground up to the roof of the tavern with a strange bounce and a push of levitation magic. He perched on the edge and swung his leg slyly back and forth "See you at my next theft? I'll schedule it just for you."
AJ — 03/19/2021
Bazil was left lying on the pavement, blinking stupidly and clutching a flimsy little coat more built for Flare than Substance. If he were more spiteful, he'd claw a couple holes in it. "Seriously." He got why this guy got under Harpur's skin.. He didn't want any prize, especially if that prize was 'worthy of Pascaal's harassment'.
He managed to push himself up onto one elbow, but the manticore knew that there was no way in hell he'd be able to scramble to his feet and after the fae now, so he watched Pascaal from the ground with that same tired stare, more a grimace than anything intimidating. He almost said 'fuck me' again, but thought better of it this time. "Oh, fantastic." It was a date then.
If Fidele left him there, the lion would recline onto his back against the pavement again, to be passed by late-night walkers embarrassedly averting their eyes from the Drunk on the Sidewalk.
Fidele Pascaal — 03/19/2021
Pascaal giggled and saluted "Until next time then, mon capitaine!" and with that he turned and disappeared up and over the rooftops, leaving Bazil there to pick himself up off the floor.
[FIN]
AJ — 03/19/2021
Spoilers: Bazil does not pick himself up off the floor.
[FIN]
(Fifth) RP Between Rigby and AJ
>
Malachi — 03/21/2021
Mal was marooned and really gods-damned tired.
Some of it had been his own fault, he'd grudgingly admitted to himself after a time.
After sailing seas away from Kasuria one moment and free-falling into a mountain range the next He could have immediately set out for civilization, instead of cozy up to stray corpses in other ship-wreckage, long picked clean of meat and valuables, to read any surviving journals or ship's logs (or pocket anything vaguely interesting-looking some of the roving looters and dragons might've missed). He could've been quicker about things.
He could've held off on searching for his crew. He didn't have to go exploring, or eating the rations of other wrecks, vomiting half of them up over the sides of long-beached ships while retreating into the wreckage of their cabins moments later for more treasures, fending looters off with a makeshift pike. He wasn't half-bad at anything to do with polearms.
He'd been clinging to this weapon, bedraggled, bloody, and begging for something that wasn't more jerky when he'd finally made his way to the city. He'd barely washed up, rented a room at the inn, sheared those horns down to acceptable polished lengths, and got a vague grip that he was in a fairy country overrun by humans when he'd found himself in the guard.
Mal was convinced they saw the dog, saw the pike. And probably saw an interesting diversity hire. But money bought food that wasn't jerky, and so he'd accepted.
Flash forward several weeks.
Malachi, the lanky, crystal-encrusted canine and archaeologist-in-training (or...'former,' as he was starting to rather-cynically gather, the more he'd studied the paths of the various gates - he certainly didn't want to go back to Kasuria, and wasn't entirely convinced his crew weren't all dead) was already tired of humans. A dog, they could handle. A dog with horns earned some squints. A dog with glowing horns was fae, no question; Mal supposed half-right was better than not right at all - and for someone yet young, and already seemingly at a disadvantage when socializing, this was the
He was in this sullen mood as he'd hauled his spindly self to the bar this evening, ordering a couple of beers at once, incredibly stubbornly. Was he a lightweight? Did he have much meat on those bones that hadn't collected at those polearm-slinging arms? Of course there wasn't.
Drys Nephri — 03/21/2021
"So are you an earth elemental of some sort?" Drys wasn't the sort that needed proper introductions, or even time to settle, plopping herself down into a barstool beside him, elbows on the counter like she'd been there the entire time. Not looking at Mal, she instead had her eyes on the tender, raising a few fingers to grab his attention to put in her own order, something much classier than beer: dirt cheap wine. It looked like epidote. Perhaps particularly elongated olivine.
Malachi — 03/21/2021
A gem-encrusted ear flicked her direction; there was a beat before Mal realized that she was talking to him, and he scooted up straighter pulling the mug closer out of...what reason? She wasn't going to just grab it, was she? She had wine for that.
That head-tilt looked right at home on his skinny little face; made somewhat ridiculous by an additional slight squint. She...was talking to him, right?
Those equally alien eyes flicked over her with about as much discretion as he could muster. Not human. Not as distinctly inhuman as he was, but sometimes things just a little off - the wrong eye color, horns. That long tail - could often be more unsettling than something as outright weird as he.
"...it's the horns, isn't it. I...no. Not an elemental, don't blame you, what with the, ah. Green. Hello," he'd finished somewhat lamely - but not unkindly!
Drys Nephri — 03/21/2021
Drys turned to look at him, wine hovering near her lips. "You're awful protective of your beer. I'm not drunk yet." There was a quizzical eyebrow-raise and smirk, amused but not quite offended by his protectiveness.
"Well, yes. Green, crystal—you're not? Really? Huh." She squinted at the crystals protruding from him. "So what caused those, then. Is that epidote?" He'd said hello somewhere along the way, and they realized that was probably a prompt for an introduction. "Drys."
Malachi — 03/21/2021
"I've had a bad day. Week. Er. Month. I've not had it before coming here!" The last part was slightly defensive, in a somewhat immature way. Come to think of it, everything was bad, and he'd cradle each beer like a treasure! Even if it was a little silly, and certainly he felt it now.
"Could be. Likely. I never really, ah...looked at it. Culture at home never particularly...sought it out." He flushed under that fur, and it somewhat embarrassingly manifested in his nose and the pads at his fingertips, darkening to a deep brown. That was the trade-off of a society that leaned into the mystical; the practical was often eschewed or handwaved, and most grew complacent.
"Malachi. Don't...I know! I know. Independent of the..." He waggled a hand at the horns.
This Drys asked next after the crystals, and he should've seen it coming. That crazy Chupakri had practically hung off of his horns back in Guildereim and he'd no desire to repeat that experience. Rather than dip his head, he'd pushed at some of the fur of the top of his wrist and offer that to her; the crystals burst through delicate flesh there, clustered and as naturally as the mineral would sprout from rocks.
Drys Nephri — 03/23/2021
Drys chuckled, but didn't push it. She wasn't about to steal his beer just to bother him. Instead she brought her own wine to her lips, emoting with a curious eyebrow and blinking back at him. "Oh? You don't..." How could he not know! It was hard to think of not knowing what you were made of, especially if it was something like gemstones. She smirked a little at his embarrassment.
"Huh! ...That just gets more confusing." She would have asked more, but he offered her his wrist instead, and with a small inhale, she set her wine down hastily and cupped his wrist between both hands. "Wow! You've got to be... Some sort of construct, right? Is this... Like, are all of your internals...?" Was that rude to ask? She didn't know much about anatomy either, but had to imagine... Crystal bones, maybe? "Do you bleed?" She paused and then burst out laughing. "That sounded less creepy in my head, sorry."
Malachi — 03/24/2021
"Perhaps." It almost seemed a concession. Maybe he was a construct; some sort of self-sustaining and replicating one. "The Arkin are not...of this world." It wasn't so unusual, right? This place appeared to function as a nexus-point of many, after all. Still, other-worlds typically boasted calcium, collagen and (he'd presumed) a fairly uniform and consistent bone mineral from being to being. Not that he typically checked.
"Even if you don't subscribe to the ideas of the gods - and many Arkin do - there's still...a crystalline comet roaming through the void in any story, the fragments from which all life, especially the Arkin, had eventually sprung. That part never changes, no matter the story. S'pose 'canine-shaped comet-piece' isn't that far off from 'constructed crystal-race!'" Both sounded equally unnatural. "Religion doesn't tend to question...these types of origins." And that was absolutely a concession, almost ashamed - in one go, Mal managed to express how mystical these 'Arkin' were...and note they simply did not have a better answer where he was from, nor were they particularly keen on exploring it. And that he'd held a secret streak frustration about the whole thing.
As long as she didn't suddenly hack his hand open with any stray cutlery at the bar, he'd allow her to poke around the sprouting crystals as much as she'd like, and he'd kept the arm outstretched. Aside from the way the crystals sprouted, the rest of him appeared perfectly fleshy and properly fuzzy, a loose approximation of Terran fur and canine traits.
"How about you, clearly you like these sorts of thing? Rocks. I mean. Not. Taking me apart. I assure you I bleed." That did burst into a flurry of laughter, awkward, nervous and oddly overwhelmed at how sharply surreal this conversation had become! "And my internals are much, much softer. You have my word on that."
Drys Nephri — 04/03/2021
Drys adopted the most 'o really' of poses, leaning an elbow on the bar and turning to rest her cheek against her fist. "Oh?" She unconsciously flipped her tail, but she was similar enough to the typical citizens of the city that it wasn't like she stuck out. She expected that a LOT of the people here were not 'of this world'. "'Canine-shaped comet-piece' does sound a lot more delightful."
She poked and prodded, not attempting to cause any harm, but pinching a bit at the skin directly against crystals to see if it attached like... Skin over fingernails, maybe? His makeup wasn't all TOO weird to her, but she also knew nothing of anatomy. And she'd seen plenty creatures made of bone jutting out of skin, where she came from. This probably wasn't that far off...
"Bleed? No!" She laughed, letting him go and sitting back. "No, I'm just interested in gems. I'm an artificer. I collect rocks for cutting down into gems for focusing magic; making power syncs and boosts and charms. That sort of thing. I haven't collected too many rocks from... People... I mean, I've seen—there's rock golems and such, but most are conglomerates of rock pieces, y'know? So the individual gems are too small to polish down to anything... usable." But he, clearly, did not have that problem—he had a clear crystal structure sticking out of his head!
Malachi — 04/04/2021
"But it's a lot tougher to swallow. Better for most to lump it all under 'gods' and be done with it!" But he didn't argue about being a comet piece, and seemed rather pleased to carry on under that illusion, right down to the affirming wag of his tail when she'd seemed to go along with it, too!
Skin-over-fingernails was as appropriate of a comparison as any; while flesh seemed somewhat of an alien formality, tearing down too deep would inevitably tear at nerves and draw blood (and get a wincing nervous arkaine on the other end!), but the flesh otherwise caught and held fast-enough, crept up over the sprouting gems at its own pace. A well manicured specimen would probably keep these evenly spaced.
"How many rock golems have you seen?" It was genuine curiosity, there - his 'strangeness' was certainly starting to show. How normal was that around these parts? Then, as she went on, he added. "It goes there, it always goes there..." He didn't bother explaining what 'it' was; didn't sound exasperated as much as slightly nervous, mostly matter-of-fact, all rumbling out of him in that mellow baritone. The last time he'd attempted to explain 'it,' it was to a mad hybrid in the last world he'd left - and one who promptly tried to pull the horns right out of his head with her bare hands. But this seemed at least a little more of a controlled setting.
He flicked a pair of fingers with his free hand against a horn, and didn't seem fazed about it at all. (Though it made a rather satisfying sound!) "Never have that problem." As if reading her mind! "They grow. Rather quickly, especially for anything...crystalline. Bit of an annoyance really if they're not cut in time, imagine rolling over as you sleep and getting these caught in your bedsheets? Or finding a proper hat!"
Drys Nephri — 04/11/2021
Drys at least wasn't a psychotic doctor out for blood. Or to tear him apart to see how he worked. He was a person! That fell in the domain of... animators, necromancers, bio-inclined alchemists? Those sorts. She liked her machines, her enchantments and charms and crystal clear magics. She was just curious.
"A fair few, actually. I wouldn't say it's my 'thing', but some people think 'rock' and 'Drys' and 'send her at the rock golem, she probably knows what to do'. Spoilers: I definitely don't." She quieted down from the teetering edge of a Mad Ramble. " 'It'?"
She was definitely the kind of 'weird' that tapped a tuning fork against a crystalline structure, and the sound his own horns made was rather satisfying. "Oh, I know that bit, at least. 'Growing too fast and getting tangled in everything'. At least yours you could... Buy a hat with holes. Mine come in sideways, practically horizontal, and hats just sort of... Float... And don't sit flush." She mimed with her hands a weird set of horizontal horns out from behind her ears, where no actual horns currently existed.
Malachi — 04/15/2021
Blessedly, a particular trio of animators, necromancers and bio-inclined alchemists were nowhere near this conversation. Had Mal only known the mad hybrid at Guildereim had friends-!
Drys continued about rock golems, which soon continued into something that sounded a lot like it wished to burst into a Ramble. That earned a mellow little laugh from the rock-dog. "It's the curse, really! A blessing and a curse,
Or if you're the first one in your friends to earn their beastmastery and get a Rathilian and now you have to be the one to ferry everyone, everywhere." The Rathilian was contextually some sort of mount, it would appear; the delivery was a sentiment that would be echoed across centuries and found among 'the friend with the degree' or 'the friend with the car.'
It was a raw and plainly curious perplexed and curious at her 'type' of being as she was no doubt with him - and it was likely that which kept him still when getting whacked with a tuning fork (though those ears would constantly be flicking at the sound!)
His irises were just as green as his horns, seemed to be of that same crystalline sheen (but that was impossible, surely? Unless these canines were more outright-golems than they'd understood of themselves. And those greens were now flicking animatedly at where she was miming, squinting, no doubt picturing those horns.
"Well now I'm curious about how you keep your horns so..." Nonexistent? He waved a hand to mimic her own miming, and thumped his tail...which was starting to become a tell for even the mildest of jokes. "You could take a leaf from the rogue fashions, go for a Mysterious Cape and Hood!"
Drys Nephri — 04/18/2021
"That just sounds like every coming-of-age story. Well, of the terrestrial ones I've heard." She nearly chin-handed as she inspected his horns, but at least she mined her manners and kept from being outright grabby. Even if they were plainly being Eyed, as were his--well--eyes. She didn't know much about constructs, but he was so plainly rock, she couldn't resist.
"Well. Um. It's not really mysterious. Pretty straightforward. I guess a little morbid if you aren't used to having horns. Just." She raised her hands to mime holding a saw, which she then used in a back-and-forth motion, complete with 'tch-sh-tch-sh' sound effects. "I get help. Because it's a little... I mean, I kind of molt anyhow--seasonally--" this was verging maybe into TMI, and she smiled awkwardly and shrugged. "It can get a little gross. But my horns are more... woody than--well--crystals don't really work with saws." His entire structure could shatter!
Malachi — 05/01/2021
"Really! I suppose - first child with the horse! Or the CARRIAGE! First to the tavern!"
Mal seemed either oblivious to or politely avoidant of the TMI; he was already talking about his skeleton, after all - though there was more evidence for the former as he did bark out a low "Molt!" Evidently interested.
"I wish it could be a saw, or just...pffwt!" He held his hand like a pantomime blade, drawing it across his horns animatedly - right after her own imaginary play at sawing. "It's one of the things we learn to do, er...with each other. I'm presuming you have cut gems!" Of course she had - with all of her rock talk, it could've been second nature. Hm.
"It's a visit to a specialist, it's worse than a haircut." He hadn't had one of those lately, either - judging by the ponytail trailing down his back. "And a nightmare with pups!" Another mime that uncannily resembled holding a squirming puppy. "I'm probably going to have to figure it out if I end up staying here!"
Drys Nephri — 05/02/2021
"Yes, exactly!" To carriages and horses.
"Oh yes! Well, that's my entire job, really--purchasing and finding as well, but faceting gems... Y'know, to maximize the clarity, since that effects its efficiency in channeling magic." Nope, nope don't ramble.
"What do you do with them after? The discarded pieces? I probably have the right tools for that."
Malachi — 05/05/2021
She had led right into it - she got it, came at it with the finesse of an artificer rather than the greed of a magician, and she'd wiggled right into the matter naturally without immediately going in for the harvest. It was a small thing, but it kept him talking.
Which meant that he couldn't just...tell her he'd tossed them after all that in fits of impatience or absentmindedness, could he? He didn't do it all the time. But he'd usually forget to find buyers and couldn't just KEEP them around. But he'd forgotten enough cast-off gems that he'd found himself easily picture her launching herself into pits of waste after them.
Unfortunately, Mal was a rather expressive individual...if his face and expression didn't betray him, he was a rather typical canid in that his ears and tail did, drooping with all the airs of a humanoid, flushing. So even his omission was an awkward one.
"I sell them to scholars, when I happen across them. The scholars, I mean. Not...the pieces. We're, ah...known in our own world to channel and enhance magic. Something a little different about our own composition, I'm sure..."
Drys Nephri — 05/15/2021
She still had that little grin of someone eager to see what kind of Quality he could produce. A 'living' crystal was certainly a unique encounter. She read his body language and leaned away just a bit, eyebrows coming together in an apologetic smile. "Sorry, that's probably a little intrusive for me to ask." See, she could be remorseful.
"Oh"? Well, he had her attention. "Do you have any books on your world's magics? Like... What channels what. Do you have like... Hierarchies with gems or colours? Unless that's a sore spot to talk about." Oops. She did look remorseful, just that her mouth had a way of running away from her.
"I don't suppose you'll keep me in mind the next time you have to saw off a horn?"
Malachi — 05/22/2021
"It's all right - I've come to expect more...aggressive reactions to, well. All of that, what I've just told you. Yours was perfectly fine! Understandable, even." He did smile at that. "I'd do it too, were I in your position!" Even a little wave of his tail was meant to be reassuring.
She ran her mouth some more, and he did let out a whuff of a sigh.
"Oh, I WISH I had my books, there are so many - we've a few schools that use them in several VERY different ways, I'd trained as an archaeologist before ending up here. They're probably back at the ship..." He'd trailed, but it was an odd trail that led into a brief moment of unfocused realization, a moment in which he'd ran his mouth before the ramifications of the thought had actually hit him. They were probably back at the ship. His ears perked up, his tail thumped against the stool. It may have crashed in the mountain range, but it was still there. And books tended to mash less than living beings did when crashing into mountains from above.
"Drys, they're probably back at the ship!!" She'd probably had no idea why he was so thrilled at this, he might have suddenly sounded like a crazy person, but that was all right - they were back at the ship!
"I'll keep you in mind, of course - I want to see what you think. But! What if I were to get you to trim them AND find ...some way to find you these books!"
Drys Nephri — 05/22/2021
" 'Aggressive'? People haven't run at you with a pickaxe, have they?" ... ...Have they!?
"An archaeologist! That's exciting, though. I've come across old antique enchanted gems before—they're interesting to collect, to see how old lapidarists chose specific facets for channeling." Oops—don't start on another ramble...
"The ship?" She didn't immediately share his enthusiasm, but when he turned to her excitedly and repeated himself, she perked up and gave him the lopsided smile of 'I don't know what you're on about but it sounds good'. "The ship you came in on?" This was all very exciting, probably!?
"Oh! Would you!?" THAT lit her face up, genuine grin and raised brows, and a sparkle to her eyes.
Malachi — 05/31/2021
He wouldn't...exactly stem the ramble purposefully (and his tail would even thump a few times at her own excitement) - but he would in another way with his own burgeoning enthusiasm.
"We crashed our ship...in a mountain." He felt that he at least looked half-mad when he was saying it; he certainly felt it was a weird enough thing to have happened! It was times like these where he was acutely aware of how expressive canines - alien, constructed or otherwise - were, as a rule. Those ears, eyes, and tail would always move, whatever he tried. He would never wager anything on a card game, surely.
"I mean, there's not exactly a handbook for what to do when that happens. But all my things are there, well. The things I didn't really bring the first time, on account of being...mountain-shipwrecked. Doubt looters will come back for a load of old books, I can go find them!"
Drys Nephri — 06/05/2021
Drys had been picturing a seafaring vessel, but 'mountain' immediately made her replace that with an airship. She'd seen a few in her travels, that wasn't too far-fetched, and seemed much more fitting (after all, how could a seafaring vessel crash into a mountain! Right?). "Well, I hear it's dangerous to fly during heavy cloud-cover. The sky and mountaintops start to blur together."
"Do you think I could take a look?" That was what he was getting at, right? "Aren't there dragons? North of here. Or east. I can't remember, towards the water, maybe. I hope all that hasn't been damaged by the elements."
Malachi — 06/20/2021
"Come with!" It was a warm and excitable chirp, before he realized that might've been Too Much - even with the infectious energy she was unrelentingly flinging right back at him! - and amended with an awkward and far more muted, "Please?"
"Only heard of the dragons." It was...supposed to be mildly reassuring. Yeah, there were deadly and angry giant creatures about - but hey, they've kept out of the way, right?
"I didn't know shipwrecks were really something that HAPPENED in those mountains all that often, but there's enough regular-sized troubles out there too...mostly regarding things you usually run into like...organized looters. Some of them were weird. Tiny dragons." He frowned and described something vaguely domestic-dog sized with his hands. "Nothing BAD...just there was a lot of them at one point!" No. Mal, that was definitely weird.
Drys Nephri — 06/21/2021
And it was infectious, in part because he was feeding into it. Although that invite...! "Really?" Hum! A shipwreck in the mountains, books and Lore from a lost race of Gem Dogs... He was trying to convince her (poorly, but she didn't need it--she was already convinced). "Yes." Absolutely. An adventure in Books and Gems and--dragons!
"Tiny dragons? Like--small wyrms or...?" She didn't know this area any better than he did. The natives were a mystery. "Oh. Huh. I don't know if I've seen anything like that. But... I think I can deal with 'dragons you've only heard of'." There was that cheeky grin, a laugh as she sat back.
Malachi — 08/08/2021
"Then it's settled! I should...we should! Prepare! Celestials above, what do you bring for mountain shipwrecks, I mean-! Clearly my last travel didn't end so well, though I could argue that, NOW! ...and through no fault of my own, of course..." He ran a hand through his hair - a motion needlessly prolonged and made incredibly fluffy and unkempt by the sheer amount of it - the excitable chirps now tumbled forth freely, and he only barely managed to curl that wagging tail so it didn't lay waste to the bar stool (or upset the likely-puzzled patron) behind him.
"Tiny dragons! They were small. Kind of fat. Didn't really pose much of a threat other than numbers and really...their taking things! Seemed to have a different idea of 'value,' I'd like to hope the books are safe."
"What do you think, should we meet back here or somewhere around, talk plans soon? This is more than a little mad, Drys!" And he, for all of his subdued cheer, seemed all for it and she wasn't helping one bit!
Drys Nephri — 08/14/2021
"Oh well, trekking gear—rations, sturdy travelling clothes—how far up--huh." Proper Adventuring she had experience with, and she was already mentally running through a list of Necessities.
"Like goblins of some sort. Probably only intelligent enough to run after something that sparkles. ...Like gems." How many sparkly rocks would a sparkly rock dog keep? They wouldn't mind looking at those, too, and would definitely chase down Scoundrels in the moment, but. The books would hopefully remain safe if the buggers couldn't read.
"Here! I'll work on a list. Meet back in two days? ...Is that too soon?" If she could look sheepish—it was all a bit mad, and she was already rearing to go. The fiend slid from her barstool, laughing. "I think I'm too excited to stay for a full round."
Mal was marooned and really gods-damned tired.
Some of it had been his own fault, he'd grudgingly admitted to himself after a time.
After sailing seas away from Kasuria one moment and free-falling into a mountain range the next He could have immediately set out for civilization, instead of cozy up to stray corpses in other ship-wreckage, long picked clean of meat and valuables, to read any surviving journals or ship's logs (or pocket anything vaguely interesting-looking some of the roving looters and dragons might've missed). He could've been quicker about things.
He could've held off on searching for his crew. He didn't have to go exploring, or eating the rations of other wrecks, vomiting half of them up over the sides of long-beached ships while retreating into the wreckage of their cabins moments later for more treasures, fending looters off with a makeshift pike. He wasn't half-bad at anything to do with polearms.
He'd been clinging to this weapon, bedraggled, bloody, and begging for something that wasn't more jerky when he'd finally made his way to the city. He'd barely washed up, rented a room at the inn, sheared those horns down to acceptable polished lengths, and got a vague grip that he was in a fairy country overrun by humans when he'd found himself in the guard.
Mal was convinced they saw the dog, saw the pike. And probably saw an interesting diversity hire. But money bought food that wasn't jerky, and so he'd accepted.
Flash forward several weeks.
Malachi, the lanky, crystal-encrusted canine and archaeologist-in-training (or...'former,' as he was starting to rather-cynically gather, the more he'd studied the paths of the various gates - he certainly didn't want to go back to Kasuria, and wasn't entirely convinced his crew weren't all dead) was already tired of humans. A dog, they could handle. A dog with horns earned some squints. A dog with glowing horns was fae, no question; Mal supposed half-right was better than not right at all - and for someone yet young, and already seemingly at a disadvantage when socializing, this was the
He was in this sullen mood as he'd hauled his spindly self to the bar this evening, ordering a couple of beers at once, incredibly stubbornly. Was he a lightweight? Did he have much meat on those bones that hadn't collected at those polearm-slinging arms? Of course there wasn't.
Drys Nephri — 03/21/2021
"So are you an earth elemental of some sort?" Drys wasn't the sort that needed proper introductions, or even time to settle, plopping herself down into a barstool beside him, elbows on the counter like she'd been there the entire time. Not looking at Mal, she instead had her eyes on the tender, raising a few fingers to grab his attention to put in her own order, something much classier than beer: dirt cheap wine. It looked like epidote. Perhaps particularly elongated olivine.
Malachi — 03/21/2021
A gem-encrusted ear flicked her direction; there was a beat before Mal realized that she was talking to him, and he scooted up straighter pulling the mug closer out of...what reason? She wasn't going to just grab it, was she? She had wine for that.
That head-tilt looked right at home on his skinny little face; made somewhat ridiculous by an additional slight squint. She...was talking to him, right?
Those equally alien eyes flicked over her with about as much discretion as he could muster. Not human. Not as distinctly inhuman as he was, but sometimes things just a little off - the wrong eye color, horns. That long tail - could often be more unsettling than something as outright weird as he.
"...it's the horns, isn't it. I...no. Not an elemental, don't blame you, what with the, ah. Green. Hello," he'd finished somewhat lamely - but not unkindly!
Drys Nephri — 03/21/2021
Drys turned to look at him, wine hovering near her lips. "You're awful protective of your beer. I'm not drunk yet." There was a quizzical eyebrow-raise and smirk, amused but not quite offended by his protectiveness.
"Well, yes. Green, crystal—you're not? Really? Huh." She squinted at the crystals protruding from him. "So what caused those, then. Is that epidote?" He'd said hello somewhere along the way, and they realized that was probably a prompt for an introduction. "Drys."
Malachi — 03/21/2021
"I've had a bad day. Week. Er. Month. I've not had it before coming here!" The last part was slightly defensive, in a somewhat immature way. Come to think of it, everything was bad, and he'd cradle each beer like a treasure! Even if it was a little silly, and certainly he felt it now.
"Could be. Likely. I never really, ah...looked at it. Culture at home never particularly...sought it out." He flushed under that fur, and it somewhat embarrassingly manifested in his nose and the pads at his fingertips, darkening to a deep brown. That was the trade-off of a society that leaned into the mystical; the practical was often eschewed or handwaved, and most grew complacent.
"Malachi. Don't...I know! I know. Independent of the..." He waggled a hand at the horns.
This Drys asked next after the crystals, and he should've seen it coming. That crazy Chupakri had practically hung off of his horns back in Guildereim and he'd no desire to repeat that experience. Rather than dip his head, he'd pushed at some of the fur of the top of his wrist and offer that to her; the crystals burst through delicate flesh there, clustered and as naturally as the mineral would sprout from rocks.
Drys Nephri — 03/23/2021
Drys chuckled, but didn't push it. She wasn't about to steal his beer just to bother him. Instead she brought her own wine to her lips, emoting with a curious eyebrow and blinking back at him. "Oh? You don't..." How could he not know! It was hard to think of not knowing what you were made of, especially if it was something like gemstones. She smirked a little at his embarrassment.
"Huh! ...That just gets more confusing." She would have asked more, but he offered her his wrist instead, and with a small inhale, she set her wine down hastily and cupped his wrist between both hands. "Wow! You've got to be... Some sort of construct, right? Is this... Like, are all of your internals...?" Was that rude to ask? She didn't know much about anatomy either, but had to imagine... Crystal bones, maybe? "Do you bleed?" She paused and then burst out laughing. "That sounded less creepy in my head, sorry."
Malachi — 03/24/2021
"Perhaps." It almost seemed a concession. Maybe he was a construct; some sort of self-sustaining and replicating one. "The Arkin are not...of this world." It wasn't so unusual, right? This place appeared to function as a nexus-point of many, after all. Still, other-worlds typically boasted calcium, collagen and (he'd presumed) a fairly uniform and consistent bone mineral from being to being. Not that he typically checked.
"Even if you don't subscribe to the ideas of the gods - and many Arkin do - there's still...a crystalline comet roaming through the void in any story, the fragments from which all life, especially the Arkin, had eventually sprung. That part never changes, no matter the story. S'pose 'canine-shaped comet-piece' isn't that far off from 'constructed crystal-race!'" Both sounded equally unnatural. "Religion doesn't tend to question...these types of origins." And that was absolutely a concession, almost ashamed - in one go, Mal managed to express how mystical these 'Arkin' were...and note they simply did not have a better answer where he was from, nor were they particularly keen on exploring it. And that he'd held a secret streak frustration about the whole thing.
As long as she didn't suddenly hack his hand open with any stray cutlery at the bar, he'd allow her to poke around the sprouting crystals as much as she'd like, and he'd kept the arm outstretched. Aside from the way the crystals sprouted, the rest of him appeared perfectly fleshy and properly fuzzy, a loose approximation of Terran fur and canine traits.
"How about you, clearly you like these sorts of thing? Rocks. I mean. Not. Taking me apart. I assure you I bleed." That did burst into a flurry of laughter, awkward, nervous and oddly overwhelmed at how sharply surreal this conversation had become! "And my internals are much, much softer. You have my word on that."
Drys Nephri — 04/03/2021
Drys adopted the most 'o really' of poses, leaning an elbow on the bar and turning to rest her cheek against her fist. "Oh?" She unconsciously flipped her tail, but she was similar enough to the typical citizens of the city that it wasn't like she stuck out. She expected that a LOT of the people here were not 'of this world'. "'Canine-shaped comet-piece' does sound a lot more delightful."
She poked and prodded, not attempting to cause any harm, but pinching a bit at the skin directly against crystals to see if it attached like... Skin over fingernails, maybe? His makeup wasn't all TOO weird to her, but she also knew nothing of anatomy. And she'd seen plenty creatures made of bone jutting out of skin, where she came from. This probably wasn't that far off...
"Bleed? No!" She laughed, letting him go and sitting back. "No, I'm just interested in gems. I'm an artificer. I collect rocks for cutting down into gems for focusing magic; making power syncs and boosts and charms. That sort of thing. I haven't collected too many rocks from... People... I mean, I've seen—there's rock golems and such, but most are conglomerates of rock pieces, y'know? So the individual gems are too small to polish down to anything... usable." But he, clearly, did not have that problem—he had a clear crystal structure sticking out of his head!
Malachi — 04/04/2021
"But it's a lot tougher to swallow. Better for most to lump it all under 'gods' and be done with it!" But he didn't argue about being a comet piece, and seemed rather pleased to carry on under that illusion, right down to the affirming wag of his tail when she'd seemed to go along with it, too!
Skin-over-fingernails was as appropriate of a comparison as any; while flesh seemed somewhat of an alien formality, tearing down too deep would inevitably tear at nerves and draw blood (and get a wincing nervous arkaine on the other end!), but the flesh otherwise caught and held fast-enough, crept up over the sprouting gems at its own pace. A well manicured specimen would probably keep these evenly spaced.
"How many rock golems have you seen?" It was genuine curiosity, there - his 'strangeness' was certainly starting to show. How normal was that around these parts? Then, as she went on, he added. "It goes there, it always goes there..." He didn't bother explaining what 'it' was; didn't sound exasperated as much as slightly nervous, mostly matter-of-fact, all rumbling out of him in that mellow baritone. The last time he'd attempted to explain 'it,' it was to a mad hybrid in the last world he'd left - and one who promptly tried to pull the horns right out of his head with her bare hands. But this seemed at least a little more of a controlled setting.
He flicked a pair of fingers with his free hand against a horn, and didn't seem fazed about it at all. (Though it made a rather satisfying sound!) "Never have that problem." As if reading her mind! "They grow. Rather quickly, especially for anything...crystalline. Bit of an annoyance really if they're not cut in time, imagine rolling over as you sleep and getting these caught in your bedsheets? Or finding a proper hat!"
Drys Nephri — 04/11/2021
Drys at least wasn't a psychotic doctor out for blood. Or to tear him apart to see how he worked. He was a person! That fell in the domain of... animators, necromancers, bio-inclined alchemists? Those sorts. She liked her machines, her enchantments and charms and crystal clear magics. She was just curious.
"A fair few, actually. I wouldn't say it's my 'thing', but some people think 'rock' and 'Drys' and 'send her at the rock golem, she probably knows what to do'. Spoilers: I definitely don't." She quieted down from the teetering edge of a Mad Ramble. " 'It'?"
She was definitely the kind of 'weird' that tapped a tuning fork against a crystalline structure, and the sound his own horns made was rather satisfying. "Oh, I know that bit, at least. 'Growing too fast and getting tangled in everything'. At least yours you could... Buy a hat with holes. Mine come in sideways, practically horizontal, and hats just sort of... Float... And don't sit flush." She mimed with her hands a weird set of horizontal horns out from behind her ears, where no actual horns currently existed.
Malachi — 04/15/2021
Blessedly, a particular trio of animators, necromancers and bio-inclined alchemists were nowhere near this conversation. Had Mal only known the mad hybrid at Guildereim had friends-!
Drys continued about rock golems, which soon continued into something that sounded a lot like it wished to burst into a Ramble. That earned a mellow little laugh from the rock-dog. "It's the curse, really! A blessing and a curse,
Or if you're the first one in your friends to earn their beastmastery and get a Rathilian and now you have to be the one to ferry everyone, everywhere." The Rathilian was contextually some sort of mount, it would appear; the delivery was a sentiment that would be echoed across centuries and found among 'the friend with the degree' or 'the friend with the car.'
It was a raw and plainly curious perplexed and curious at her 'type' of being as she was no doubt with him - and it was likely that which kept him still when getting whacked with a tuning fork (though those ears would constantly be flicking at the sound!)
His irises were just as green as his horns, seemed to be of that same crystalline sheen (but that was impossible, surely? Unless these canines were more outright-golems than they'd understood of themselves. And those greens were now flicking animatedly at where she was miming, squinting, no doubt picturing those horns.
"Well now I'm curious about how you keep your horns so..." Nonexistent? He waved a hand to mimic her own miming, and thumped his tail...which was starting to become a tell for even the mildest of jokes. "You could take a leaf from the rogue fashions, go for a Mysterious Cape and Hood!"
Drys Nephri — 04/18/2021
"That just sounds like every coming-of-age story. Well, of the terrestrial ones I've heard." She nearly chin-handed as she inspected his horns, but at least she mined her manners and kept from being outright grabby. Even if they were plainly being Eyed, as were his--well--eyes. She didn't know much about constructs, but he was so plainly rock, she couldn't resist.
"Well. Um. It's not really mysterious. Pretty straightforward. I guess a little morbid if you aren't used to having horns. Just." She raised her hands to mime holding a saw, which she then used in a back-and-forth motion, complete with 'tch-sh-tch-sh' sound effects. "I get help. Because it's a little... I mean, I kind of molt anyhow--seasonally--" this was verging maybe into TMI, and she smiled awkwardly and shrugged. "It can get a little gross. But my horns are more... woody than--well--crystals don't really work with saws." His entire structure could shatter!
Malachi — 05/01/2021
"Really! I suppose - first child with the horse! Or the CARRIAGE! First to the tavern!"
Mal seemed either oblivious to or politely avoidant of the TMI; he was already talking about his skeleton, after all - though there was more evidence for the former as he did bark out a low "Molt!" Evidently interested.
"I wish it could be a saw, or just...pffwt!" He held his hand like a pantomime blade, drawing it across his horns animatedly - right after her own imaginary play at sawing. "It's one of the things we learn to do, er...with each other. I'm presuming you have cut gems!" Of course she had - with all of her rock talk, it could've been second nature. Hm.
"It's a visit to a specialist, it's worse than a haircut." He hadn't had one of those lately, either - judging by the ponytail trailing down his back. "And a nightmare with pups!" Another mime that uncannily resembled holding a squirming puppy. "I'm probably going to have to figure it out if I end up staying here!"
Drys Nephri — 05/02/2021
"Yes, exactly!" To carriages and horses.
"Oh yes! Well, that's my entire job, really--purchasing and finding as well, but faceting gems... Y'know, to maximize the clarity, since that effects its efficiency in channeling magic." Nope, nope don't ramble.
"What do you do with them after? The discarded pieces? I probably have the right tools for that."
Malachi — 05/05/2021
She had led right into it - she got it, came at it with the finesse of an artificer rather than the greed of a magician, and she'd wiggled right into the matter naturally without immediately going in for the harvest. It was a small thing, but it kept him talking.
Which meant that he couldn't just...tell her he'd tossed them after all that in fits of impatience or absentmindedness, could he? He didn't do it all the time. But he'd usually forget to find buyers and couldn't just KEEP them around. But he'd forgotten enough cast-off gems that he'd found himself easily picture her launching herself into pits of waste after them.
Unfortunately, Mal was a rather expressive individual...if his face and expression didn't betray him, he was a rather typical canid in that his ears and tail did, drooping with all the airs of a humanoid, flushing. So even his omission was an awkward one.
"I sell them to scholars, when I happen across them. The scholars, I mean. Not...the pieces. We're, ah...known in our own world to channel and enhance magic. Something a little different about our own composition, I'm sure..."
Drys Nephri — 05/15/2021
She still had that little grin of someone eager to see what kind of Quality he could produce. A 'living' crystal was certainly a unique encounter. She read his body language and leaned away just a bit, eyebrows coming together in an apologetic smile. "Sorry, that's probably a little intrusive for me to ask." See, she could be remorseful.
"Oh"? Well, he had her attention. "Do you have any books on your world's magics? Like... What channels what. Do you have like... Hierarchies with gems or colours? Unless that's a sore spot to talk about." Oops. She did look remorseful, just that her mouth had a way of running away from her.
"I don't suppose you'll keep me in mind the next time you have to saw off a horn?"
Malachi — 05/22/2021
"It's all right - I've come to expect more...aggressive reactions to, well. All of that, what I've just told you. Yours was perfectly fine! Understandable, even." He did smile at that. "I'd do it too, were I in your position!" Even a little wave of his tail was meant to be reassuring.
She ran her mouth some more, and he did let out a whuff of a sigh.
"Oh, I WISH I had my books, there are so many - we've a few schools that use them in several VERY different ways, I'd trained as an archaeologist before ending up here. They're probably back at the ship..." He'd trailed, but it was an odd trail that led into a brief moment of unfocused realization, a moment in which he'd ran his mouth before the ramifications of the thought had actually hit him. They were probably back at the ship. His ears perked up, his tail thumped against the stool. It may have crashed in the mountain range, but it was still there. And books tended to mash less than living beings did when crashing into mountains from above.
"Drys, they're probably back at the ship!!" She'd probably had no idea why he was so thrilled at this, he might have suddenly sounded like a crazy person, but that was all right - they were back at the ship!
"I'll keep you in mind, of course - I want to see what you think. But! What if I were to get you to trim them AND find ...some way to find you these books!"
Drys Nephri — 05/22/2021
" 'Aggressive'? People haven't run at you with a pickaxe, have they?" ... ...Have they!?
"An archaeologist! That's exciting, though. I've come across old antique enchanted gems before—they're interesting to collect, to see how old lapidarists chose specific facets for channeling." Oops—don't start on another ramble...
"The ship?" She didn't immediately share his enthusiasm, but when he turned to her excitedly and repeated himself, she perked up and gave him the lopsided smile of 'I don't know what you're on about but it sounds good'. "The ship you came in on?" This was all very exciting, probably!?
"Oh! Would you!?" THAT lit her face up, genuine grin and raised brows, and a sparkle to her eyes.
Malachi — 05/31/2021
He wouldn't...exactly stem the ramble purposefully (and his tail would even thump a few times at her own excitement) - but he would in another way with his own burgeoning enthusiasm.
"We crashed our ship...in a mountain." He felt that he at least looked half-mad when he was saying it; he certainly felt it was a weird enough thing to have happened! It was times like these where he was acutely aware of how expressive canines - alien, constructed or otherwise - were, as a rule. Those ears, eyes, and tail would always move, whatever he tried. He would never wager anything on a card game, surely.
"I mean, there's not exactly a handbook for what to do when that happens. But all my things are there, well. The things I didn't really bring the first time, on account of being...mountain-shipwrecked. Doubt looters will come back for a load of old books, I can go find them!"
Drys Nephri — 06/05/2021
Drys had been picturing a seafaring vessel, but 'mountain' immediately made her replace that with an airship. She'd seen a few in her travels, that wasn't too far-fetched, and seemed much more fitting (after all, how could a seafaring vessel crash into a mountain! Right?). "Well, I hear it's dangerous to fly during heavy cloud-cover. The sky and mountaintops start to blur together."
"Do you think I could take a look?" That was what he was getting at, right? "Aren't there dragons? North of here. Or east. I can't remember, towards the water, maybe. I hope all that hasn't been damaged by the elements."
Malachi — 06/20/2021
"Come with!" It was a warm and excitable chirp, before he realized that might've been Too Much - even with the infectious energy she was unrelentingly flinging right back at him! - and amended with an awkward and far more muted, "Please?"
"Only heard of the dragons." It was...supposed to be mildly reassuring. Yeah, there were deadly and angry giant creatures about - but hey, they've kept out of the way, right?
"I didn't know shipwrecks were really something that HAPPENED in those mountains all that often, but there's enough regular-sized troubles out there too...mostly regarding things you usually run into like...organized looters. Some of them were weird. Tiny dragons." He frowned and described something vaguely domestic-dog sized with his hands. "Nothing BAD...just there was a lot of them at one point!" No. Mal, that was definitely weird.
Drys Nephri — 06/21/2021
And it was infectious, in part because he was feeding into it. Although that invite...! "Really?" Hum! A shipwreck in the mountains, books and Lore from a lost race of Gem Dogs... He was trying to convince her (poorly, but she didn't need it--she was already convinced). "Yes." Absolutely. An adventure in Books and Gems and--dragons!
"Tiny dragons? Like--small wyrms or...?" She didn't know this area any better than he did. The natives were a mystery. "Oh. Huh. I don't know if I've seen anything like that. But... I think I can deal with 'dragons you've only heard of'." There was that cheeky grin, a laugh as she sat back.
Malachi — 08/08/2021
"Then it's settled! I should...we should! Prepare! Celestials above, what do you bring for mountain shipwrecks, I mean-! Clearly my last travel didn't end so well, though I could argue that, NOW! ...and through no fault of my own, of course..." He ran a hand through his hair - a motion needlessly prolonged and made incredibly fluffy and unkempt by the sheer amount of it - the excitable chirps now tumbled forth freely, and he only barely managed to curl that wagging tail so it didn't lay waste to the bar stool (or upset the likely-puzzled patron) behind him.
"Tiny dragons! They were small. Kind of fat. Didn't really pose much of a threat other than numbers and really...their taking things! Seemed to have a different idea of 'value,' I'd like to hope the books are safe."
"What do you think, should we meet back here or somewhere around, talk plans soon? This is more than a little mad, Drys!" And he, for all of his subdued cheer, seemed all for it and she wasn't helping one bit!
Drys Nephri — 08/14/2021
"Oh well, trekking gear—rations, sturdy travelling clothes—how far up--huh." Proper Adventuring she had experience with, and she was already mentally running through a list of Necessities.
"Like goblins of some sort. Probably only intelligent enough to run after something that sparkles. ...Like gems." How many sparkly rocks would a sparkly rock dog keep? They wouldn't mind looking at those, too, and would definitely chase down Scoundrels in the moment, but. The books would hopefully remain safe if the buggers couldn't read.
"Here! I'll work on a list. Meet back in two days? ...Is that too soon?" If she could look sheepish—it was all a bit mad, and she was already rearing to go. The fiend slid from her barstool, laughing. "I think I'm too excited to stay for a full round."
