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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 4:02:07 GMT -5
Spawne said to Thea, "There were some items I needed to recover. I should hope to be in the area for some time..."
Thea listens with a piqued curiousity, "Items you say?" The pixie jumps at the sound of Tene's familiar call, "Tene!" Thea quickly motions Nancy over to serve up a round or two for her friends. Thea gathers her things and points to where Spawne and Tenebrae now sit, directing the barmaid where to set the drinks. Pushing a glass towards each she continues to listen quietly. Spawne nods. "An item that is of little consequence, but I could certainly not bear to have it in the possession of another." Thea arches a brow, desire to know driving forth further inquiry, "Aye? And are you going to tell me what this special item is or do I have to guess?" The Pixie grins then winks.
Spawne inclines his head, long scraggly hair covering his ageing features, "I'm sure you could." The crimson behemoth digs into his pocket, emerging with a damp cloth, adorned with stitched runed and jade sigils. Empty eyeholes gape into an endless void, filled with the screams of terror this artefact of little consequence has witnessed in its aeons of existence- The Deathmask of the Catastrophe. "It is I, I am it... I was daft to think I could dissociate myself from what Khasad had me become..." Thea inspects the cloth with luminous viridian's, an understanding and even perhaps a touch of empathy writing over her features with quiet reply, "I see. Do you have any inclination where it is now?" Tenebrae grasped her drink like it's the last one she might ever have and gulped it, after raising it toward her friends. "Good to see you two..." She turned to Spawne, "You cannot be serious. That thing... you know what it does."
Thea glances to Tenebrae smiling broadly to her old friend, "Always good to see you as well, Tene."
Spawne stuffs the mask back into his pocket. "It? I don't follow..." Tenebrae narrowed her eyes toward the colossal man. "You know what I mean." Diverting her attention toward Thea, she grinned whitely. "It is, isn't it? I've been out hunting, and looking for the King of Roads, blasted Wanderer.."
Spawne said to Tenebrae, "I'm naught but an ageing wreck without it, Miss Tenebrae."
Thea said to Tenebrae, "The King of Roads,... you mean Darian I presume? The one you told me of before?"
Tenebrae sighed, shook her head and cast Spawne a rueful look. "And with it, you're a right bastard." She bit her lip in thought. "But not to me, overly, so I suppose there'd be no real harm." Thea having recalled earlier encounters with Spawne looks on him with worry, "I do not seem to remember you being such to me either..but then, much escapes me these days."
Spawne runs his broad tongue across the surface of his teeth in momentary contemplation. "Yeah." Digits wrapped firmly around the glass vessel in front of him, he swigs heartily, again brushing his silver mane behind his back.
Tenebrae nodded to Thea. "He's taken off, somewhere or other, and I've hardly heard a decent tune since he went." She coughed slightly behind a curled hand. "Of course, it's only his playing I miss. He's a total sod, in every other regard." Thea chuckles at Tenebrae's response, eyes widening in sudden realization, "Oh! Speaking of missing men..you will never guess who I have reacquainted myself with." Tenebrae blinked widely. "Uh... tell me it's not one of my old ones..." She smiled wanly. "Or is it one of your own paramours?" Thea blinks twice at the query before exuding another of her infamous grins, head shaking from side to side, "Not one of yours.." She pauses as if to question her own assumption, "I don't think anyway. Vexar."
Tenebrae, while chatting to Thea, slipped under Spawne's broad arm, bringing herself within the circle of those broad limbs, and tweaked his nose gently before looking back to Thea. She nodded to the pixie knowingly. "I have no clue whosoever in the lands that is, Pix." She laughed. "Well, not that I can recall. Who is he?"
Spawne bites playfully at Tenebraes slender digits, peering between the two with obvious cluelessness as to what they're discussing.
Thea laughs openly, having forgotten the amount of drink consumed the night they met, "Wasn't sure if you would remember him or not. You and I had a little erm..tussle here in the tavern with he and one of his friends one night. He broke my staff.." Thea grins over at Spawne, "Not likely he is as cuddly as this one here, but he does get to me."
Tenebrae frowned a bit, both at the nipping and the news. "Gerroff, you great lump." But she didn't mean it. Or O'Bannion would've known it. To Thea she said, "Blighty bugger. Shall I give him a thumping for you?" The vampiress dug -- playfully-- one horn of her helmet's point into the underside of Spawne's chin. "I missed you, you gargantuan lobster." She had been quaffing with the cellar-builders, somewhat, and was in one of those moods.
Spawne laughs, "I'll bet you did. Y'scamp." Scooping his companion up in his forearm, he lifts her high to his bearded cheek, "Gi's a kiss, fish breath..."
Tenebrae 's lips thinned to a pale line. "I've not got fish-breath, you monstrous lump of scarlet mischief." Ebon brows knitted hard in a frown. But she gave him his kiss. Threw a sharp nip in, to boot, and said, "And anyways, how long's it been since we went on a bender?"
Thea giggles at the pair of them, response directed to Tenebrae, "I don't think he needs a..thumping. Not just yet anyway." A bed of lashes falls to her shimmering cheek in a most mischievous wink given to the woman.
Spawne grinned broadly, lowering Tenebrae into her seat.
Tenebrae 's brow would quirk archly at the pixie's salacious eyelid-shennanigans. "Now, I've heard of keeping your enemies close, but..."
Thea cannot help but giggle, Tenebrae knowing her all too well. A shrug of shoulder and that plastered grin are all she seems to manage for reply.
Tenebrae flashed Mesthak a subtle hand signal. Well, two of them. The first was an order for a very large round of drinks. The second was a rude gesture, known only to dwarves and a few who'd done trade with them, which acted as a symbolic warning for the loss of certain bodily organs should he spit in her drink. Mesthak, perhaps unwilling to forgo fatherhood at his stage in life, complied.
Hetarno walks into the tavern and lays down.
Thea quickly spots Hetarno and nudges Tene's side gently, jutting her chin in his direction then leaning in close to whisper.
Hetarno said, "that for tavern?"
Thea whispered to you, "I slipped that one there some dragon's blood the other day. Damndest thing, it didn't affect him in the slightest at first. Hours later he came begging for a cure."
Tenebrae nodded approval to the keep as tray after tray of shots was slid across to the trio. Taking one up, she raised it, looking to the other two expectantly. "Here's to good times, and old times." She sniffed. "Not that I'm old, or anything..."
Thea lofts her glass, clinking it to the others then downing the drink post haste.
Hetarno glances at Thea and closes his eyes. he then rolls to the side but shrieks in pain from the left arm has not healed from his last training meeting.
Tenebrae blinked toward Thea. "You did that?" She grinned. "No wonder I like you."
Spawne smirks, chiming glass against glass, "Speak for yourself." Self-appraisal out of the way, he downs the liquor without delay.
Thea chuckles, "I learned from the best!" With that said the Pixie raised her glass in toast to Tenebrae once again. Tenebrae reached to her pack, and dragged out a heavy pouch, which she proceeded to swing in slow circles, 'til the item was moving like a fat windmill blade, raising it to shoulder height as the momentum increased, and snapping her fingers free of the cloth, right about that moment the short trajectory of the now free-flying bag, weighted with metal, would arc rapidly toward the chest of O'Bannion. "Get yourself some decent kit, y'great ruffian."
Hetarno sits up slightly "How do you guys make all that money?"
Tenebrae grinned horridly at the stranger. "I killed all the people who asked me how I made all that money, and took theirs."
Hetarno nods and lays back down "That’s nice to hear..."
Spawne intercepted the satchel's trajectory, mandible clutched tightly around its opening to stop the gift with a brief rattle. "And how should I be working this one off, hm?"
Hetarno stands up and bows to the tavern as he walks out.
Thea shakes her head, ever-present smile displayed to both in her company as she follows suit, mirroring Tene's generous act with just a touch of her own humor, "And for goodness sake, man..get a bath." Thea tosses the pouch then ducks.
Spawne intercepted the satchel's trajectory, mandible clutched tightly around its opening to stop the gift with a brief rattle. "And how should I be working this one off, hm?" Thea very nearly falls over in a fit of giggles at Tenebrae's response to Hetarno, "Oh dear, Tene..you scared him off!"
Thea winks to Spawne and motions to the woman at his side, "I'm sure she will think of something."
Tenebrae snickered, not softly, at the pair. To O'Bannion she said, "Oh, don't you worry, I'll think of a list.." It was likely he wouldn't mind it too badly, though. And to Thea she nodded. "He -is- a bit on the ripe side."
Thea shakes her head, "You have no idea, honestly. Just the other day he was running amok with his balls of fire going off in all directions. It's really a wonder the sod is still alive, especially after the dragon's blood."
Tenebrae coughed in a most violent - if not entirely unbecoming manner - as whisky surged up the back of nose, the sudden realisation blurted out - as soon as she'd stopped choking, that is. "Thea! That reminds me -- what news of that drow? I haven't seen my assas.. er. Janitor in days."
Spawne kicks Thea lightly under the table. Perhaps for a good reason, perhaps not.
Thea tries to muffle her laughter, shoulders still shaking with a failed attempt. To Tenebrae she would offer an apologetic grin and a most innocent, "What?"
Tenebrae flapped her hand about, in a vain attempt to quell the burning in her sinuses. "You know.. the one who offed your nephew. Is he still kicking?"
Thea rubs her leg and cuts her eyes at Spawne playfully, "Ow!"
Thea said to Tenebrae, "I've not heard a word nor seen either."
Tenebrae said to Thea, "Are you alright..?" She'd eye Spawne a bit, and turn back. "And in that case, I must give you back your deposit."
Hetarno sits back down on the couch and closes his eyes.
Tenebrae said to Spawne, "What's the matter, Kaine? Your bladder given out in your old age, so you cannot drink as much as a wee attractive lass.. like myself?"
Spawne blinks.
Thea said to Tenebrae , "Nay, you keep hold of it for now. Never know when I may need some more..cleaning done."
Hetarno looks over to Thea "Mind if we talk?"
Tenebrae looked meaningfully at the intruder. "Aye, Pix... I'll do just that."
Thea turns torso to the one offering request, smirk playing on her lips, "Sure. Care for another drink?"
Thea gave 1 dragon blood to Hetarno.
Tenebrae bit her bottom lip, quite hard.
Thea sets the glass down and looks expectantly to Hetarno. Spawne said to Tenebrae, "Like who, you? There must be some mistake!" Throwing back another whiskey, he shrugs. "Until the stagnant blood in my veins courses once more, there ought to be little reason for any manner of drinking."
Hetarno smiles " No, I don't. I wish to settle a truce with you. I know you do not like me and you know I do not really like you all that much. So how about we forget about the past and continue in a kind or at least non-violent future. What do you say?"
Spawne tosses an empty bottle at Hetarno, "Beat it, y' lily-white arse pirate!" Hetarno catches the bottle and drops it on the ground, not paying any attention to Spawne. Thea settles back in her seat, fingers playing along the vessle in hand, "Non-violent you say?" The Pixie looked as if that was an unreasonable request given their previous encounter. "Tell you what..you keep those fiery balls of yours tucked neatly away where they belong.." She paused and issued a malicious grin, "and I won't eradicate anything vital to your further enjoyment of ..whatever it is you do. Deal?"
Tenebrae made a sulky-face at the hulking man she'd come to call friend. "Well, what remains there to do, to get that blood pumping again? I'll help, if it doesn't involve too much nudity, and reasonable amounts of bloody violence."
Spawne said to Tenebrae, "I'd imagine there'd be a sizable amount of one, and much less of the other."
Tenebrae spoke a soft aside to the pixie, snorting the last of her liquor into a clean hanky, prior. "I've always admired your diplomacy, Thea."
Thea chuckles softly and looks over to Tenebrae, "Thank you, Tene."
Hetarno smiles and nods “Thank you."
Spawne grumbles, "I haven't. Just lop him off at the berries and get back to drinking already."
Hetarno looks at the Dragon's Blood "I can use this for revenge. If you don't want it back of course."
Tenebrae grinned. "Ah, Red. Just let me know how much weaponry, and how little clothing I need to pack for the quest." A more serious tone entered her voice, then. "I'd see you strong again, my friend. More able to sup a whisky without falling on your behind like a hobbit full of ogrish wine." The jest was half-hearted, though, her brow furrowing a little. "What need I do?"
Thea is the one now nearly choking on her drink, coughing and sputtering with nostrils ablaze. A small slippered foot meets to Spawne's leg 'neath the table as payback. Thea lifts her glass and motions to the dragon's blood, "Aye, it is good for revenge. Though, I am sure you have first hand experience with that by now." Hetarno laughs "Yes... Yes I have."
Thea quirks a brow at the unusual tongue spoken by the daft one. For all she had understood was 'bye', waving a hand of farewell.
Spawne cannot help but smile at Thea's tiny kick, crimson visage canted in her direction. He replies to Tenebrae, "The mood is far too light for such conversation, I'd much hate to ruin it. We shall discuss it later, yes?"
Tenebrae nodded to Spawne, her smile soft. "Aye, that we will. So now, get drinking you humungous nancy. I'm three up on you already." Indeed, she was starting to look a tad bleary. In a not-unattractive way, of course.
Hetarno walks over to an empty seat near Thea "Mind if I sit here?"
Thea spots the man what just passed through, nudging Tene's arm, "Say..wasn't that your ass..janitor?"
Tenebrae fell about helplessly, splashing whisky hither and thither. "My what?"
Thea laughs at the way her words had come out, "Your..janitor, dear..the one with the broom?"
Tenebrae recovers a bit. "Aye, that were him, odd fellow. If he comes back, we'll see what's up wi'him." She was still snickering, though.
Spawne glances toward the man wanting to sit at his table, not exactly impressed. Plucking the drink from Tenebrae’s hand, he downs it before she can react. "That’s one more for me." Tenebrae eyed Hetarno. "Bit free with other folk's whisky there, aren't you?" Tenebrae said to Spawne, "Oi!"
Hetarno looks around " Thought it was the tavern's." Sits down in a chair next to Thea.
Tenebrae said to Hetarno, "It was. 'Til I --bought-- it. Oh, the hells, help yourself.." Hetarno laughs slightly "Sorry..." Tenebrae blinked unsteadily at O'Bannion. "Red. Reddy, oh steady friend of mine. Are you aware..." She nodded, with a ponderously serious mien. "That I now own and run the Hanging Corpse tav?" She blinked again. "I've no clue why I'm sitting here, getting blitheringly soused wi' you, and paying for it, when I have a pub full o'booze back there..."
Hetarno smiles at the tavern "Help yourselves."
Thea calls Nancy over with a wavering hand, instructing her to keep the rounds going at least for the duration until either Tene or herself were completely inebriated.
Spawne said to Tenebrae, "You can certainly afford it, little miss." His eyes dart between his friends and the other one who made himself comfortable at his table, "Who the hell is this chump?"
Hetarno smirks at Spawne "Talking about me are ya?"
Spawne said to Hetarno, "If you consider yourself a chump, sure. You're in my seat."
Tenebrae shrugged lightly, the slight motion causing her to teeter dangerously on the edge of her barstool. "I have not a jot of a smidge of the tiniest effing clue." It was quite likely she'd be taking a spill, were she not set upright, quite speedily. Terra had just entered in from the northern room only to pause in mid-step at the gathering. "Joli," It was unknown if it would've actually been heard, "I think you're a bit drunk."
Hetarno laughs " First off... I am in too good of a mood so anything you call me will not work so you can stop that. Secondly why should I move for a peasant such as yourself?"
Thea , though quite off-balance as well moves her arm under Tene to keep her stable, "Easy there..wouldn't want to have to pick you up. Not that you're not attractive enough or anything.."
Jabari moves behind Tenebrae, a small hand pulling her back upright into her stool as he moves over into a chair in a table just next to the bar.
Hetarno laughs at Thea's comment.
Tenebrae was leaning on Thea a bit as she turned toward the sound of her name. "TERRA!" Joli was rather enthusiastic in her greeting, setting the pigeons in the rafters overhead to cooing at the disturbance. "Oh looky, it's you." She squinted at the woman. "And you brought your twin sister with you!"
Thea looks blurry-eyed to the one now standing behind Tenebrae, finger pointing and waggling is accompanied by a bit of broken speech, "I know you.."
Spawne took no offence to being labelled a peasant, however it was certainly grounds for retaliation. "Because even peasants like to put their feet up." An outward thrust of his foot this time wasn't directed toward Thea, rather toward the seat supporting Hetarno. The mass of his enormous foot shattered the stools front two legs, eradicating any and all balance he may have. Scooping Thea and Tenebrae up, he drapes the soused pair over his shoulders, "Let's head to yours Ten, too many chumps here..."
Thea is now draped over the shoulder of Spawne, limp as a noodle with wings to match. Lifting her head just a bit after getting a whiff from his flesh she pats him on the back, "I love you, but you really do need that bath."
Terra grinned at Joli and the enthusiasm accompanying the greeting. "My twin? Oh, well, my twin and I are heading to the Hanging Corpse... I'll save you a remedy, hm?" Out the door she goes.
Spawne said, "I bathed yesterday! Just because I didn't bother to find a barber while I was gone dun' mean I didn't wash!"
Tenebrae was slapping Spawne's back heartily. "Gee up, horsey!" ---Hanging Corpse Tavern, Vailkrin ---
Jabari moves into the tavern, throwing a hand up at Terra in a silent greeting as he moves to the back of the room, rumbling around the cleaning closet. Tenebrae was peering at the timber most concernedly. "This floor is nasty. Achoo."
Terra nodded towards Jabari after popping up from behind the counter at the sounds of other voices.
Tenebrae sneezes abruptly, craning her head around. "Jabobbery. Where’s that lazy son-of-a-sphinx? "
Jabari comes out of the cleaning closet with a bucket of water and a mop already, blinking at Tenebrae, "If... You weren't intoxicated, or a female... I might be offended..." The large janitor placing the mop into the water, ringing it out with his own hands as he starts at one corner of the tavern and proceeds to start mopping.
Spawne follows a tremendous crash as the door swings around into the adjoining wall. The Deathmask had been pulled down to cover his eyes and nose, and with that, his heart had sprung to life. Consequently, he was now beginning to feel the effects of his many hours of drinking. Breathing in deeply, he bellows, " I BOUGHT STUFF!" Tenebrae grins up at him from the floor. "YAY!" And promptly pulls a beer from her pack. "That's more like it, Red." Jabari said to Terra, "Umm.... Isn't there a point that it seems like she is a little too drunk?"
Spawne does a twirl. His beard had been shaven off, but the stubble remained.
Terra glanced worriedly towards the drunken bunch, considering Jabari's comment about a certain point. "You want to be the one to tell 'em that?"
Tenebrae hiccuped softly.
Jabari said to Terra, "I could... I just... Don't want her swinging and then me have to... Ya know, stop her..." Spawne sat on the floor in front of Terra, the oddly dressed juggernaut at eye level with the young elf. "...Hey."
Thea pipes up to Jabari, "Swinging is fun!" Jabari said to Thea, "I am sure it is...."
Terra said to Jabari, "Let's just keep it a secret, huh?" Tenebrae is still on the floor. "Spawne, you're handsome devil..." The irony escaped her, utterly.
Terra turned from Jabari to look at Spawne, evidently amused by the grin she gave. "Hello there. Can I help you?"
Jabari said to Terra, "But... It isn't right.... She could.... See people outside this tavern and... Like.... Try to eat them or something...."
Thea nods to no one really, "Aye, but he needs a bash.."
Terra wasn't sure why everyone had opted for a seat on the floor, and just blinked. "Joli... If you sit on that dirty floor, won't you get dirty too?"
Terra said to Jabari, "...Try to eat them? You surround yourself with interesting people, don't you?"
Jabari is mopping near Tenebrae and now needs to mop under her, so he leans over, offering a hand down towards her, "Mind if I help you up?"
Thea raised a finger at Terra, "Dirty is as dirty does, Missy!"
Spawne looked at Terra for a little while longer, perhaps conjuring up something provocative of thought to say, "...Yeah." His attention diverted for a moment, he calls back to Tenebrae, "Hey whats m'job gon'be?" Without awaiting a reply, he looks back to Terra, "...Hey."
Tenebrae grinned to Terra. "I'm not the dirty kind." Peridot eyes blinked slowly. "Not unless there's a song on the piano, and a brass pole handy.."
Jabari said to Terra, "They kind of.... Just found me... I still don't like people very much... Well, at least men..." Thea giggles and points to the piano, "Jimbobo, play so Tene can dance?"
Tenebrae turned to Spawne, craning her neck up to peer at him, from her seat on the boards. "You up to heaving varmints out the door, Red?"
Jabari makes a face at Thea, turning back to what he was doing and just ignoring the pixie.
Terra snickered at Thea while nodding, agreeing with the point. Spawne's given another glance, and a crooked smile, "Hello again. Was that a yeah to needing something?"
Thea then looks to Spawne, grin spreading widely, "Got a pole?"
Jabari wonders if Tenebrae is going to respond to Jabari attempting to lift her...
Spawne turns to stare at Thea, cheeky grin plastered across his face.
Rasja scuffles towards the bar, looking down at all the people strewn across the floor on her way there, "Did I.. miss something?"
Tenebrae piped up enthusiastically. "If you have a pole, Red, I'll happily dance on it..."
Tenebrae was hauled to her feet, by Jabari. "Thanks, pet."
Spawne cranes his upper body forward from his sitting position, trying hard to say anything that will be used against him later.
Thea rubs her temples, not having had this much to drink in quite sometime was sure to take it's toll on the petite Pix. She calls out to Rasja, "Aye, play for us? Tene is going to dance on Spawne's pole."
Jabari sits Tenebrae down in a chair, "You are.... In no way fit to dance right now...." The assassin just turning around after that, blocking out the three as he continues to mop. Terra guessed she wasn't going to receive an answer from Spawne and took to wiping at the bar with a rag, keeping a careful eye on the trio. Thea gives Jabari a light scowl, "She can dance if she wants to."
Tenebrae said, "Everything's under control..."
Jabari continues to mop, taking in a deep breath and ignoring Thea's words.
Thea nods affirmatively, "That's right. Hmph!" Tenebrae swayed softly in her chair. "I'm not as thunk as you drink I am."
Thea slumps further into a chair, seeming to nearly melt against the frame, "I think I had..wasn't there a horse?" She looks around and shakes her head at the silliness of her own question then closes her eyes.
Jabari said to Tenebrae, "Yes, you are..."
Tenebrae leant across to poke the pixie gently. "Aye, but they said we weren't allowed to use it in the.. Oh. --Your- horse?" She looked about, hither and thither, and shrugged helplessly. "I haven't a clue."
Thea mutters something about asses and brooms and drifts off to more incoherent dribble.
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 4:02:59 GMT -5
Terra hadn't a clue what to do with drunken babbles and horses. Instead, she delivered fudge to the table, hoping food would help.
Jabari goes back to mopping the floor, letting someone else take care of them. Rasja clings to her chosen stool, legs wrapping around it as if the drunken few on the floor were contagious. To know one in particular she asked, her hands gripping the stool's front as she leaned forward just a bit, "What brought this on?"
Tenebrae said to Jabari, "What about the.. you know what..?" She winked, managing to close both eyes in the process. "Thingybob."
Jabari said to Tenebrae, "Thingybob?"
Thea 's eyes popped open and looked to Tene in question, motioning to Jabari, "I thought he was Thingybob?"
Jabari said to Rasja, "They.... Had a drinking contest or something in the tavern...."
Thea delivers an inebriated grin to Terra, "Thank you, dear. You have lovely fudge."
Tenebrae supped another drink back, and attempted to gather her thoughts. "The drow. You know." She tried to nudge him, though Jabari was nowhere near her, and made a sawing motion across her throat with one finger. Jabari said to Tenebrae, "I have... Something special in mind.... Things... Take time you know..."
Thea points to Tenebrae as if she knew exactly what the woman had meant, though she hadn't a clue in her present state, "Aye! Indeed so."
Thea reached thumb and forefinger, several times missing at their aim for a piece of the candy. Tenebrae frowned at the brownish-hued sweetmeats. "I hope they're not Colin's "special" ones.." Thea was just starting to bite into the bit when she heard Tene. Look at the fudge with a shrug she just pops it into her mouth uncaring. Terra narrowed her eyes at the mention of Colin, "I tend to avoid what he goes near. His are still sitting where he left them."
Rasja said to Jabari, "Who won?"
Jabari said to Rasja, "Don't know, don't care...."
Tenebrae jabbed a finger at the fudge, spearing a bit on her fingertip and lifting it to turn this way and that, a look of intense concentration cloaking her features.
Terra briefly wondered if Joli remembered how to eat the fudge... Not sure she wanted to know the answer, Terra bit down into her lip and went about her way.
Rasja said to Jabari, "Think I.. could get fudge too?"
Tenebrae said to Terra, "Ah, bad blood there, no? I noticed you two weren't all that chummy..." She -was- the observant one. "What's the story there?"
Jabari said to Rasja, "If you want... Why woudn't you be able to?"
Terra said to Tenebrae, "...And here I thought we were subtle. Nothing happened other then his uncanny ability to spin lies. Me telling him that I wouldn't dance for his entertaiment led to him claiming I was stealing, lying, the typical things men accuse women of when their pride is hurt."
Jabari said to Terra, "What happened?"
Terra said to Jabari, "With? Colin? He's taken to telling people I'm a liar and I steal from this tavern," She pauses to snicker, "Mature, no?"
Tenebrae nodded, still studying the sugary item. "Ah, figured it was a load of horse-apples. " She muttered a quiet addendum to that, and perused the fudge more narrowly.
Rasja filches a piece if fudge, turning around and devouring it before anyone could object. She was a bit too interested on the sweets to rightly care about the other happenings going on around her. . Jabari said to Terra, "I can... Off him for you.... No man should bad mouth someone like such... Especially you..."
Terra laughed at Rasja and her quick do-away with the fudge. "I would've got you some, hun."
Tenebrae waved her hand- sweetmeat still appended to her forefinger, toward the piano. "Anyone up for a sing-song, then?"
Terra said to Rasja, "Can't you play the piano?"
Jabari moves back towards his pack, pulling open the flaps and bringing out a small bag, dangling the sugar cookies from a string, "Can you catch?"
Thea who had been in a silent stuper for a bit slams a hand to the nearby tabletop, exlaiming to Tenebrae, "Furthermore, Tene..I should find a husband!"
Tenebrae huffed a little, and set the fudge down on the bar. "You know.. I bet we can make a contest of that.. and a bit of gold, besides."
Rasja jerks a fist in the air, yelling out in a cheery way, after all- she was getting her sweets, there wasn't too much else that mattered, "Sing-songs!"
Tenebrae jumped, violently at the pixie's outburst. "Yes!" She exclaimed. "Just don't go for any of my old ones, they are all bastards." She sniffed in an almost maudlin manner. "Except Mem, of course. What about this Vexation, or whatever his name is?" Rasja said to Terra, "Not as well as others.."
Thea grinned from ear to ear upon mention, or muddle of his name, "Ah, yes..vexy thing, that."
Terra slipped uninvited into a seat at the table, drawn to Thea's comment, "A husband? Why do you need one?"
Thea said, "I'm not entirely certain he is the marrying kind, but then..who is?"
Tenebrae waved to Rasja, a pinkish tinge of bloody tears in memory of her dead lover drying at the mention of a singalong. "What a good idea."
Terra said to Rasja, "Likely better then any here under these ... conditions."
Thea gave a very matter of fact glance towards Terra, "You mean you don't know?"
Terra apparently did not know, "Nope, I haven't a clue."
Jabari said to Rasja, "You want the cookies?"
Tenebrae said to Terra, " Set a while, and have a drink, pet, before you have a conniption or.. something." Thea giggles, head shaking, "A talk for another time perhaps."
Rasja said to Jabari, "Gimmie."
Jabari blinks, "Get your lazy rear over here and get them."
Thea said to Tenebrae, "Ah, Mem..always after me wings. Lovely man."
Terra blinked a few times at Thea, snitching a bit of fudge, "There's an entire talk about husbands?" Now, Terra hadn't a drink that entire morning, but sitting at that table was making her feel as if she had, or would be drinking soon.
Rasja slips off the stool, and tepidly strolls to Jabari's side, holding her hands out, palm up.
Thea lifts her mug, "To Mem, and you..and good times."
Jabari drops the bag into her hand and moves back to mopping.
Tenebrae sniffed sadly. "Aye, to Mem-- he was always after my... Nevermind. But he -was- a lovely man, and I miss him, sometimes, Thea." She smiled, crookedly. "But then, I have my Leo. He's a good sort, too." Thea pats Terra's shoulder with a lazy hand, "There is an entire plot about husbands, aye."
Thea had never actually had a husband, so she really wasn't sure but loved the idea of plotting.
Tenebrae hadn't either, but figured it sounded more decent than four shags and a werewolf.
Rasja takes the offered pouch of sweets, opening it to gaze across its sugary goodness in pure delight. With that, she moves over to the surrounded table, leaning in and snatching a cookie from the bag's confines. "Maybe I should get under these conditions too.." With that said, the cookie is plopped into her mouth. Rasja ate a sugar cookie.
Jabari just says, to no one in general, "And maybe I should start leaving..." Tenebrae raised herself unsteadily from the chair she was in, courtesy of the lovely Jabari -well, he looked a bit lovely to her, at the moment, at least - and slunk in what she thought was a graceful manner toward the piano, upon which she clambered in the manner of a slightly retarded sloth, managing to lay on it easefully enough, on her stomach, chin propped to her fist, and started humming. Suddenly she sat up, like a jackrabbit who'd suddenly been prodded in the behind with something sharp, speaking as though in reply to an unheard voice. "Blood sacrifice...? What's this?" She looked about self-consciously. "Uh. Nothing. Song?"
Jabari said to Tenebrae, "No? I don't want you to find a pole either..." Tenebrae scowled at Jabari. "Killjoy."
Jabari said to Tenebrae, "Please don't look at me like that..."
Thea issues a weary blink or two at Tene's outburst, her head now pounding. The Druidess turns sideways in the chair, curling into a pile of drunken pix then closing her eyes.
Rasja said to Jabari, "Maybe you should play for us then.. since you won't let her play."
Jabari said to Rasja, "I don't play... I don't do woman talk either..."
Thea mumbles softly, "A girl should never be without a good pole. Indeed so."
Tenebrae nodded, and closed her eyes gently, body swaying to a soft crooning pouring over her lips. Supine on the piano, she rolled over to gaze at the ceiling, the song drifting wordlessly across the tavern's atmosphere.
Rasja said to Jabari, "Why, and why not?" Jabari brushes off Thea's words and says to Rasja, "Not a big fan of music and... I just don't like women talk...."
Thea cups her hand as if to conceal her words, which fails miserably seeing how she spouts them at a most audible level to Rasja, "It gets his knickers in a twist."
Jabari said to Thea, "Leave my knickers alone...."
Thea laughs, hand wavering aimlessly, "I dun want your knickers, I have my own."
Rasja nods to Thea's wise words, "You are more than likely correct about that."
Terra wasn't sure if she was amused or concerned by Thea's current state.
Darian slipped through the door, faintly scenting the demulcent undertones of a rainslicked and marble-smooth Evening, just before the inevitable plunge of sweat and laughter and ‘live’lihood of Tavern life. His coaling eyes singeing the dusty from the planks, his rose-milk pale lips tight and humming a musical annotation to the swiftly abandoned Night, his ears scrying music from the windy lyrists whose fingers bled upon their strings from the rapacity of their playing. His feet wound him through the bazaar-like cluster of tables, fingers swiping mousy coins like falcons from their tops. Shortly, he arrived at his frequented stool toward the end of the bar and lifted a foot to its bottom-most wrung, lurching whoever its current patron from its seat, his flagon spewing frothy ale like a spray of hemlock in bloom. In moments, Steadmen had a set of bottles before him, and began enumerating the variety of drafts that had just been made available, should he desire another flavor this night. It was apparent that the procession of events entailed by allowing Darian to call upon his attention were growing rather... distasteful.
Jabari said to Thea, "Then just talk about your own."
Thea was starting to regain some composure, only some mind you. Only when she was in the company of Tenebrae had she ever gotten so drunk and thus, blames Tene..but loves her just the same.
Jabari looks around, and seeing as there is nothing to really keep him, is off.
Tenebrae rolled back over onto her stomach, half-lidded eyes dusked to a smokier green than peridot and a slow smile spreading across her lips as Darian trod the new-washed boards toward the piano she lay on. She was still humming, a chiaroscuro-toned tune, wordless and sweet, as he evicted the patron from his chair. Only when the vampire was seated did she stop, to offer him brief greeting. "The wanderer returns..." An abrupt and peptic hiccup had her slap one pale hand across her mouth, this lowered a moment later, and Joliette's features flushed pink with stolen vitae and embarrassment. "I'm not soused, you know." She'd level an unlevel gaze at Darian. "The piano. The piano has been drinking." Her nod was convincing. "Not me."
Thea giggles once more at Tene's remark then waves to Darian, "I am certain we should meet on better grounds..like when I know there is one." With that, Thea drifts off to sleep.
Rasja turns from her position, attention caught by Tenebrae and her suave way of speaking in her current state. She lets her gaze travel ever so slightly, following the Vampire's to her spoken target- the newest tavern attendant. A chair is then pulled from the table she currently stands at, and she takes a seat at once.
Tenebrae was slurring her words a bit, really. She's had rather a lot of whisky, enough to fell two full-grown orcs, in fact, or a small band of rowdy hobbits. She took up the tune again, feet raised from bent knees, propping her chin on her fist again, and hummed some more. Darian was in the midst of loosing his still yet grime-besotted tresses from beneath his jacket, like a splay of Nimbus churning from the depths of a mountain’s distant jag of blackness, and advancing from the horizon, and then draining his wine in a swill, when Tenebrae’s words reached him. Though, as of yet still ensorcelled by the windy hum circling the deathly villa, he barely bothered to place a word, there was indeed one word he had little choice to do so with. Piano. The very word was like a bell, tolling him back to the world, as he shunts from his perch, toppling the stool atop the previously unsettled patron’s inebriated slumber, and moves with a driven singularity towards his Baby, as would a weather vane looking North in the eyes with tranquil obsession. Traversing over tables to do this, he comes to halt and lets his eyes inspect the lacquer, the sheen, the grain for anything that might’ve ensued of a damaging nature in his absence of these feral quarters. “Steadmen. Now.” And the clack of bottles lining his Baby, as the clock of bones in a serpent’s murderous constriction, accompanied his languid sway to a seat at the bench, his eyes attuned to the keys he plucked in a premonition of Song as he lifted a bottle and uncorked it in a gentle motion before he drank, and then spoke. “I see you’ve kept our baby in good health.”
Kasyr , after having taken a few moments to glance to either side of those oddly populated streets of Vailkrin, proceeds to quietly slip into the interior of the corpse, little need for a dramatic entrance when he'd had his fair share of drama in the past while. Thus was explained the soft tread of his footsteps towards the fireplace, arrival at his particular destination within the room equating a collapse into one of the chairs, by which point he begins to glance about the room.
Tenebrae’s smile was anathema to the burgeoning misery that had welled in her, not too long before, at the memory of loved ones lost. Bright now, paradoxically warmed by the one who’d brought her only chills, she patted the timber on which she lay. “Aye, Sire, that I did. Safer’n houses, through fires and brawls, and all sorts.” Fist slipping from under her chin, Tene’s head jerked up abruptly. “Whoops..” Another self-deprecating smile, as the whiskey-sotted vampiress gave Darian her best impression of a sober person. “All under control. I missed you, you know.” Nothing she’d admit, come morning. There might have been a more tender light in her falconish eyes, had they not gleaned the arrival of ... "Kasyr!" The name was half-strangled from her throat, as she sat bolt upright. "Sven's behind... it's you!"
Onde yawns and stretches as he awakens from his slumber in one of the chairs in front of the fire place.
Darian pressed the keys in a song that breathed the music of a lady whose dreams swell from the beautiful depths of her psyche, and of her lover who waits silently by her side, praying she wakes soon so she might share it with him. "I know." he whispered over the music. After a few moments he halted, his grin a scythe on his lips in the direction of Tene. "Steadmen. Get the walking corpse a drink. And then get him another one, and so on, so forth. A challenge - if you give him drink till it kills him, you'll have your pay. Should it be otherwise, you'll not get one damn coin for the entire night." The lovers awoke in each others arms as his fingers returned to their keys.
Kasyr felt almost lethargic, the words seeming to only reach his ears after Joli had risen, eyes of that luminescent hue of amber taking a few moments to fixate upon she who had been present upon his revival. "Joliette. Cheri...how are tu?" He was a bit quieter than the norm, but it's a bit to be expected, when one's still a bit stirred from being snatched from death's grasp. Onde stands from his seat and runs a hand through his long straight brown hair. Shaking his head to wake up a bit more the lycan walks over to the bar and looks over the menu of drinks. Rasja presses against the table, rising from her place, chair softly pushed back in as quiet a fashion as she could muster. It had seemed that all was being taken care of- for the time being. She skirts towards the tavern entrance, while the first wave of music hits her ears, and a piece of fudge nabbed is soon nabbed on her way out. Kasyr took upon that oddity of a challenge with all bits of a fair, if somewhat toned down share of humour. Nothing quite said welcome back to the land of the living like chain drinking. Tenebrae was bereft of reply, while Darian played. The notes, each trembling through the instrument's timber to shiver her flesh and spirit alike, had stolen all words, and images tumbled through her mind like the roiling of a high-falling white-water stream. "Hm?" The little sound came dreamily, until his fingers stilled. "Oh...Kasyr." Attention snapped to the man, again. "I am a little.. sleepy. But well enough." She seemed to lose capacity for speech again, lips parted but unmoving a moment. "And.. how are you?" It wasn't often one got the chance to ask this, of a dead man. "You're looking.. well." She smiled her perkiest smile, until the playing began again, and her eyes clouded to a shade more reminiscent of oak-shaded moss than tundra ice. "Sire.. how is it you are so... as you are, and yet can play so beautifully?"
Darian kept his eyes, like raindrops that had just been born with a tumult of dust in their guts, on the piano as he ended the song, and began to play one for a little girl who somewhere in the world had fallen in love with the beauty of Old Man Winter's hoar beard - covered herself up with snow and died in the fit of an exultant smile. "I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me as to both how I am, and how I play, before I may even attempt to grant an answer."
Tenebrae swallowed softly, eyes shifting toward Kasyr in the hopes of a handy point of distraction, but the revived one was clearly fallen to slumber, and there was none other to be had. “You..” Her own gaze sought the gleaming wood’s whorls, the lines traced with a fingertip. “You’re like a .. a tramp.” She grinned. “A traveller, in penury. And often in need of a bath.” The last was added, with a tone of disapproval weighting the words. “Yet, you play as one raised in the houses of rich folk, or a …” She didn’t know the word for it. “Someone born to finer things than…” Her eyes would shift from his, an inclusive glance about the room following.
Thea awakes and glances about, still in a bit of a daze. Spotting Tenebrae she smiles, "I think the next time I try to drink with you, I shall get someone else to volunteer in my place."
Tenebrae had found her distraction, it seemed. "Thea..." She chuckled softly. "Nobody but you could do it so well.." She'd cant her head toward the man seated at the piano. "You've been missing the music.."
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 4:03:49 GMT -5
Darian walked his way up and down a woodland-splinter bass-clef for a time, his eyes still as raindrops, though in an instant they appeared to climax their shortlived time with a death like a rancorous splash on a blood-tinted alleyway in a dank and moonless city. He rose, sliding his fingers down the piano as he circled to its side, pulling Tenebrae off of their Baby and holding her in his arms – pacing with the bass-clef’s lightning clash wolfishly humming in a dogged, rhythmic, padfall of a tune. “Well, perhaps I’ll take your offer for the bath, if I am not to forward in hoping it should not have been retracted just yet.” He chuckled briefly. “It would appear you’ll have to endure my filth no matter the option, though.” Looking down at her inebriated eyes, he hummed toward where he remembered her having said the baths to be.
Olivius barges through the heavy tavern doors, his old swagger dominating his meager demeanor. His nostrils flare at that sweet familiar scent of vanilla. "Lady Tene", his soft voice proclaims. Kasyr was, for all sake of continuity because the typist is exceedingly lazy some days and particularly certain moments, ever so contently curled up in a chair, nursing what was yet another bottle of blood wine- the imp hybrid really did have a thing for that particular vice. Thus, it was little surprise that with the amount he imbibed, Olivius' somewhat boisterous entrance was granted all of a nod, though the lycan which followed managed to garner himself a somewhat icy stare simply for the sin of existence.
Tenebrae’s attention was torn from the distraction of pixish jest, when lithe arms enclosed her in a surprising embrace, and the Wanderer slid her from her perch. “I’d love to help you scru…” But more distraction was arrive, in human form – a waking Kasyr and… “Olivius…?” She barely breathed the name, eyes widening with a joy so fierce she’d jiggle in those tensile arms and tiptoe to plant lips briefly on the tip of the pianist’s nose. “Cabal.” It was a whisper, ripe with meaning, she tugging Darian to face the two men, and Thea. “It’s surely a night to make my heart glad. My people, sire.. I have missed them so.”
Maere saunters in through the heavy doors, the dim light keeping her exhauseted state hidden from those whom care to notice her appearence. Silently, the woman waltzed through the tavern, finding a chair among a few of the already attending night creatures. Banash said to Kasyr, "You... I lead Lady Joliette to the Shrine of Kanos to help with bringing you back, yet all I recieve is the same glare as before."
Tenebrae offered Banash a quick smile, and cast an almost-reproving look toward Kasyr. "He was very brave you know, Kas.." Her tone was even, however, nearly gentle. "I couldn't have done it without him." Kasyr said to Banash, "...I saw things, you know. Or maybe you don't. It matters little. Just be happy I'm not more hostile, there's reason, tu sais?" The tiefling did pause however, for, however much the visions did speak of what this one was capable of, saving him didn't make much sense, maybe. Unless it was to cause harm later, after he was around to witness it. And so, back into the bottle he goes, another long drink taken before he gets something of a less malignant glower. "...Merci. Oui. I think that says it. That et owing my life, or something."
Thea listens intently to the various conversation, picking up bits and piecing them together in her mind of events she had apparently missed. Turning to Tenebrae, the Pixie looses verbage completely off topic, "Did you know that one of your staff nearly left this place in ash?"
Olivius embraces this day as one without folly. How long has it been since he has been in the presence of his saviour? What has happened in his absence? And how long will he keep his composure knowing that there is no steed beyond the tavern doors, no brother, no friend. Just the endless agony of a tortured existence. His cobalt eyes clear as he pushes these thoughts deeper in to his mind. His pallid features focused on Lady Tene, "She has changed too" he thinks to himself, "Is there anything sacred in this realm?" Tenebrae nodded to Thea, a rueful gleam in her eye. "Yes, I know.. er. What?" She shook her head. "I had word of a dragon, of some kind. Staff?" She was sobering quickly, as ire was wont to do to the woman, and amber light flickered as she glanced to the piano, and Darian, and back. "Who would be so dull-witted as that?"
Darian nods with a brief smile to Tene, loosing his arms and arching his neck like a black cat in a the hovel a spellweaving hag to swill his drink, his adam's apple bobbing. He sat at the piano once more. "With all the manners you appear to have, it's little wonder you get a glare, and sheer wonder itself people even breathe a word in your direction." he said, striking the keys in a sub-contralto tonic like that of the same hag rocking her cat to dreamless sleep in a rickety chair. "Steadmen. How should the working corpse be so low on liquor when I have Told you what should happen otherwise." A brief shuffle of legs, and darian eased his rocking fingers into another song, as a scabrous fist cleaving and clawing at a lid of pine upon being buried alive. And the beat goes on as he swills a bit more.
Banash said to Kasyr, "You're welcome... It wouldn't be the same without you trying to kill me."
Maere scanned the tavern's patrons, though through many weeks of sightlessness, she still had a trying time figuring out who everyone was due to her lack of clear view. Though something caught her eye, a rather familiar figure, though she could not clearly see his face. Her lungs tightened, air caught in her throat as if she had just hit a sour note in some on going concert. Still wishing the solitude of her chair, she said nothing among them, only whispering to the single waitress that brought her the sweet wine she ordered. Slipping the young lady a few coins, Maere let her eyes fall back to the table top.
Olivius can't help but to smirk at the creature. "Perhaps some things don't change."
Thea issues forth a sigh, wings spreading as she leans against the chair, "Colin as I recall. Something along the lines of a..wyrm? Not quite sure.." Tenebrae arced her brow in haughty censure, some terse retort or other springing to her lips at the Wanderer's words, apparently for her.. Ill mannered? Joliette would have none of it! She cleared her throat, swept her gaze, suddenly reverted to an artic hue, across the room. "Thea, Olivius, I'd like you to meet Darian." She sniffed lightly, raising her tone above the swell of his playing. "The King of Roads. Darian, Thea - my dearest and only female companion - and Olivius, who is Cabal." She said the latter as though the term carried its own banner and heraldic trumpet. To follow was a soft aside to the pixie. "Aye, Colin, he's a rum 'un. But it was the Wyrm who caused the fire, I believe."
Thea offers a respectful bow of head in Darian's direction, polite smile to follow. "Hello, Darian. Tene.." The pixie paused as if unsure what to call her friend at this point, "Joli..has spoken of you in highest regard." Thea then turns to Olivius, "You I have never heard of, but we'll not let that matter eh?" Her smile was as gracious as ever, "Pleasure to meet you."
Olivius stands upright, his physique hardly one to be feared. His small frame seems frail as his poor posture reflect the toll his condition has had on him. In a voice load enough for even the hard of hearing patrons to hear his bestial tongue spouts violent verbose, "I have not the patience for people who would come into the Cabal's tavern and speak down to Lady Tene. As for being a 'King of the roads', that is a title only one without a home could respectively wear. Do forgive me, but I don't trust vagrants. They share far too many traits with humans."
Kasyr tried not to let the reproachful look get to him, instead focusing a particularily amused smirk towards Banash "...I thought we agreed, I wouldn't try to harm you at all, for the moment." He almost seemed happy at that, the words seeming to bubble from his gullet at the thought, that mayhaps, whether the visions were right or not- he would be enough to divert it anyways. But, oh! Introductions were being made, one would suppose now was a time to be paying attention- and thus was a gaze rivetted upon this 'Olivius', what he belongs to warranting a special bit of attention, from faint recollections. Maybe he should stop drinking, just maybe.
Olivius offers a petite opaque hand to Thea. It's tactile members outstretched to covet the fae's own. Tenebrae grimaced inwardly at the turn things were taking, conflict among people she thought her own bringing her teeth to grit together; but a stoic mien was kept - men would be men, after all. To Thea, she gave an apologetic smile. "I should have told you about Olivius. One of Cabal's finest, and close to my heart." She gestured toward Kasyr. "And this is Kas.. Kasyr, a fine warrior. Kas, Olivius..." A chin-tilt to the lycan. "And Thea." Another to pixie. And a blink thereafter. "You know Darian, already, of course."
Thea accepts the offered hand with an awe-struck countenance set on by his outspoken nature.
Olivius brings her hand to his lips, "Olivius Mankrah m'lady. A pleasure to meet you."
Tenebrae nodded to Thea, a rueful gleam in her eye. "Yes, I know.. er. What?" She shook her head. "I had word of a dragon, of some kind. Staff?" She was sobering quickly, as ire was wont to do to the woman, and amber light flickered as she glanced to the piano, and Darian, and back. "Who would be so dull-witted as that?" Thea meets his gaze with one of shimmering viridian, smooth grin painting over velvet soft lips, "One of your finest indeed, Tene. This one has some manners." She chuckles a bit at the end.
Kasyr had noted that little 'human' comment, but then again, Tieflings nature made him somewhat abnormal in that regard anyways- thus he took a moment to adjust a few wisps of brown and silver tipped hair from whence they were, the motion then changing into a somewhat lax little wave before focus drifted upon Steadmen. "Some more blood wine, S'il vous plait." Darian chuckled at his piano, his breath curling the remnant flecks of blood upon their keys. "If you weren't so occupied with what you do and do not have patience for, or do and do no trust, you might allow a hint of a thought to stir beneath your scalp. If this extreme unlikelihood were to occur, then you might realize that I was speaking down to the Lycan, and that Tenebrae is merely a few bottles beyond recognition of whom I am addressing. However, I'm not one to be hopeful, so we'll just go with your trust-lacking assessment for the time being." and here he sighed into an empty bottle. "Steadmen." and his piano's sill lined with bottles like a laundry wire might with a murder or crows.
Olivius shifts uncomfortably. "I knew I could smell a human, but no I brushed it off as paranoia. Where has it gotten me this time, I am standing beside one of their filthy kin. How to I respond to an introduction to this creature, to this slayer of will and life?"
Tenebrae 's look would shimmer with a flare of pride as the pixie spoke. "Indeed. He brings much to our family.." Still laced with the whisky shed imbibed for hours, the vampiress' vocabulary was repaired to more of the Vaikrin urchin than 'Lady' anybody. "He's a bit of alright, our Olivius." Maere stood, her now unoccupied wooden chair scrapping against the floor boards. Having emptied her wine, and a nod given to her companions she sat with, Maere nodded to whom she believed to be Tenebrae. "Love what you done with the place m'lady." Came the soft compliment from Maere's unpainted pale lips as she sauntered over towards Steadman, her slippered heels dragging against the floorboards. "Five to go, if you wouldn't mind please." It was unusual for Maere to use manners when in a bar, Steadman staring at her with a look of surprise. Idly he pulled the five ordered bottles from beneath the bar, stuffing them in a sack for Maere as she slipped him several gold coins. Olivius said to Darian, "If you are going to insult me, you should do it with words I will understand."
Irin glances about and gives a slight cant of the head towards Kasyr, Thea, Maere, and finally Tenebrae before issuing forth a quick set of words towards the vampiress, "It seems that quite some time has passed since our last meeting Tenebrae. How have you been in your time away from the lands you had so oft been seen in before your return?"
Darian said to Olivius, "If you are going to misunderstand me, you should do it in a more amusing manner."
Tenebrae turned toward the Wanderer with a look of sheer dismay, lower lip bitten between pearlescent teeth, and the flush of stolen life rising like dawn's own scarlet on her cheeks. "I.. uh." Her gaze was cast to the floor, though her head would turn to Darian. "My fault, Sire." Yet another soft hiccup, as she'd look to Olivius. "My apologies to you, also." Waving the barkeep over with a flap of pale hand, she hissed an order in his ear, and turned back to the company, dipping slightly to have her lips gain proximity with the pianist's ear. "Forgive me, and play me a song, and I will personally clean that rancid coat of yours. While you're bathing."
Tenebrae tilted her chin up toward Maere, whose presence she'd barely noticed 'til now, so quiet had the woman been. "Y'welcome."
Kasyr does little at the beginning, his visage maintaining its oddity of a pleasant appearance, up to the point his wine was delivered. A courteous, if not rather curt, smile is granted to Steadmen following that most timely delivery of what was asked, and in rather gross number as well, by which point the hybrid allowed all semblance of pleasantness simply seep away- a more catlike facade taking its place. Towards Olivius, the answer comes, laced with an almost venomous meaning. "You talk as though you know what I am... and as though for what you presume I am is imparfait, flawed in your eyes, and all others are graceful and incapable of that stagnant theft of life, of bindings, Oui? To what do I owe the honour, of being labeled, Monsieur. Or is my mere presence such a slight against tu- Who is obviously so perfect as to judge others" It was a tone rarely used, with reason.
Myranda walks into the tavern, taking a seat at the bar, her elbos on the edges of the bar, looking around at all to see.
Maere, on her way past, slipped a note and a few gold coins to the woman she knew as Tenebrae. Regardless of thier pasts of disliking eachother, Maere goudn it nessassary to extend a helping hand. Should the woman decide to read the note, it would read. "From what I hear, all positions are filled, but do madame, feel free to call upon me for clean up late at night." Inside, there lay fifteen gold coins in thanks for supplying a decent place to rest. With that done, Maere returned to her whispering companions, stashing the bought bottles into a sack she carried.
Tenebrae gave Irin a wave, over the heads of the burgeoning crowd. "I was with the trolls, under the gorge. Smelly lot, and liable to eat a person, if they can. But I learned a lot." She smiled, the tensions apparent in the room not yet quelling her spirits at the return of so many of her own today. "Been busy, with this place since. How are you, pet?" She wondered if he still hated that term.
Kasyr tips his head slightly in Irin's direction, almost as a forethought, that vague little greeting all the tiefling is granting for the moment, his attention all but stolen entirely by the one providing a certain type of amusement Tenebrae palmed note and coins, the parchment unwrapped for brief perusal, and she'd look up afterwards, with an agreeable nod, by way of promise to reply properly at some later date. "Thanks." Thea tipped her head to Irin in greeting then noted Myranda with a soft smile.
Myranda returns the smile to Thea, with a ,"Hello."
Olivius said to Kasyr, "Your blood is what you owe the honor of being labeled. I am far from perfect, and yes your presence is a slight against me and the hardships I've overcame despite being cast out and hunted by your kin. Are you really trying to draw sympathy from being judged or mislabeled? Have you seen who you keep in your company? How dare you come to our city, into our tavern then playoff like your disgusting race is not responsible for every single hardship our kin has ever experienced."
Tenebrae gave a civil nod to Myranda, tossing the coins her way. "Buy everyone a round of ale, kitten, will you, and seve it up?" She hoped a drink might soothe a few savage breasts, if there wasn't imminent music.
Irin visibly takes some manner of offense to the term given his way as his grip upon Shynt'eyl tightens to the point that the yellowed bandages upon his forearms and hands audibly grate against one another. "Why do people insist on calling me that wretched name? Oi, the things I put up with here..." A shake of the head is given sending the hermit's ponytail over his right shoulder before speaking once more, "So long as you don't bring any of those raised trolls around myself again I'll be quite alright as I have been for the majority of the time between our last meeting."
Tenebrae coughed sharply. "Olivius, sweet..." She met his eyes, were he close enough, to look at him directly. "Kasyr is as good as Cabal. Like our beloved Cuki, human. But Cabal at heart, I think." It was all she'd say, no reproval in those icy eyes. Daja slips into the Hanging Corpse quietly (in kitten form), looking around. She sneaks up behind Myranda and jumps onto her shoulder. Olivius understanding what Tenebrae was suggesting, he nods to her then dusts off a seat before plopping down into it.
Darian splayed his fingers and cut into the lower octaves in an abrupt peal of Thunder that swayed the forked and flaming tongues of hearths and candles. He stood and turned. "As if your putrid race has not made them to suffer - as if every nose in a quarter mile does not suffer when you are within its bounds. He is here, and he will remain here until he is done drinking. If you have such hate for him, then I would suggest you buy him drinks until his liver fails, human that he is. Otherwise, hold your sickly tongue from lashing at his ears in your 'Lady's' presence." Thea stands to gather her things, fingers running through her disheveled curls after her little bout of drinking with Tene. Smiling to those she had just been introduced to she imparts softly, "Nice meeting you." Draping one arm about the shoulders of Tenebrae she plants a kiss to the palid cheek of her dearest friend, "I must be going, Tene. I shall see you later."
Olivius offers his quiet softened voice to Darian, "A man who pretends to be knowledgeable about manners shows a lack in them when speaking to someone who was not even addressing them."
Kasyr smiles, quite broadly really, before he lets out an almost dreary sounding yawn, eyes all but shut when he does so, though truly, those pools of amber light reside upon Olivius in a pair of narrow slits, up until a state of 'wakefulness' is assumed again. "...Tiefling. I'm just as much -Imp- et hence belonging here, as I am human. Now, I don't care for, nor want your sympathy. Its called sarcasm, Cheri, because I think your an idiot." He had lost that acidic quality to his tone, instead partaking of one more fitting of a fool, mirthful but with a certain bite to it. And he was rather enjoying playing the fool. "And your hardships? I'm not from these lands, so I know not your history, but laying every problem from here to creation on humans is the single most stupid comment I've heard...except for the whole, the pixies are going to kill the dwarves thing, that was fairly stupid too, oui." Gesticulating his hands idly through the air, as though orchestrating some symphony, though one might consider this more along the lines of a brewing disaster, he persevered. "You can't say you've never been the cause for your own problems, ever. That you've never turned upon each other, that you yourself aren't sitting there causing this, parce que...er, because you have a stick stuck so far up your.." A glance was given to those ladies present before the tiefling finally shuts up, a prodigious swig of wine aiding in the cessation of his voice.
Myranda grabs a tray from under the bar, placing glasses on it, pouring dark ale half way. Making her way around the bar, hand a glass to all.
Thea offers a wave to Irin and Myranda then takes her leave to the dreadful mines, not yet having done the mundane chore.
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 4:05:46 GMT -5
Tenebrae exhaled, deeply, an obvious relief granted the breath and looked almost apologetically to Olivius. "We have battles ahead, dear. Such battles, as will fill your heart with a dragon-song. But now is the time to gather our own, and make it solid, and plan our plans." She winked to him. "I hope you've kept your weapon sharp." Maere said to Myranda, "Thank you dear."
Myranda said to Maere, "You’re welcome."
Daja nods to Myranda and leaps off of Myranda's shoulder and sits in a chair. Irin looks down at the glass thrust in his hand before setting it aside before Kasyr as the demi-feline is one of those whom rarely partakes in the drinking of such draughts.
Tenebrae 's relief was clearly short-lived. "Kasyr." her tone was reminiscent of a winter's gale in temperature. "Olivius is Cabal. This is his home. Where are your own manners?" To Darian she'd whirl, hair pluming like an Arabian's tail at gallop, fangs shown in slight. "Have an ale, pet. And play me a song, before my sulking head explodes for the whisky in it. Please."
Darian grins swings his rose-milk pale lips into a scything grin as he seats himself at the piano, tossing his bottle to a breaking tumult on the skull of a patron shadowed in the corner. "I fail to see the relevance of your observation. If you speak to Kasyr again, however, you will not miss the relevance of mine.
Olivius said to Kasyr, "Tenebrae will not be here to keep your heart in your chest forever. Next time I see you I will remember your insults and kill you. Remember this human, for I am of my word."
Maere said to Syrenia, "Morning my dearest sister-in-law."
Myranda said to Daja, "How have you been today?"
Tenebrae gathers the ale from Myranda in her hands, a deep draught taken to cool her temper, possibly, and a nod of thanks given the girl. "Well done, pet."
Syrenia bows her head to Daja in greeting before turning her attention to Maere. "Greetings dearest. How are you fairing this day? Better, I hope."
Olivius tosses a placid encasement on the table near Tene. A fragment of a tooth is visable through the dark material that covets it. "That is all they left of him, this is why I have returned. They have killed Naglfar, if I can't find the ones who did this I will just kill their entire race one at a time.
Tenebrae stilled, staring at the object Olivius had put so casually on the timber, and paled. "Oh, what have they done?" Her lips numbed. "Olivius..." The significance of that scrap would be known in full to few, and most profoundly to the lycan and Tene. "It can't be.
Maere let lose the faintest of smiles toward Syrenia. "I will survive....that is what matters."
Daja sighs. "Tired. After all, yesterday I had to go against three diffrent people in a battle and nearly broke my tail and a rib bone." She sighs. "Trust me, you do not want to be me right now.
Syrenia cants her head slightly to the side, offering her own soft smile as she responds to Maere. "The manner in which you survive, matters as well. If you need me, you know how to reach me. I have a few errands to tend to." Maere nodded silently to her sister, before returning her attentions back her quited companions.
Sacraos wanders in with a content smile upon his face. The 'lad' had changed into a man, at least of his own will. He had barely began to see the possibilities of the gift he had recieved from the highest ranking mage in his kingdom, but felt content with leaving himself as he now was. For the time at least. Eyes, always a peircing blue search around the Tavern taking in every person as they came and went, those at a table. They searched none the less for perhaps no one, perhaps someone, and the content smile fades to a frown 'pon seeing his foe was not present. A full blonde beard. neatly trimmed now lined his face and it was lightly itchy...As if a bug were living in it perhaps. Wink. Regardless of the beard, his head was unfortunately still bald leaving him to look older then he actually was, his current incarnation that of a thirty five year old male. A quiet seat is taken, and he choses to watch the crowd, not quite prepared to order food or drink. Kasyr was calmed, for a moment anyways, as his attention came to trying not to just exhale what wine was still in his mouth at the sudden tone, reminiscent of hell glaciating- mayhaps. And she almost succeeded, a nod granted, an idle hand moving towards the bottle- and then the words hit home. A twitch, spastically running through his arm, before he sends a number of the bottles upon the table near him to the floor in a cacophony of glass upon wood. That slow shift of focus towards he who insinuated death anew- He'd seen his hell, over and over and over. "...Tiefling. Not human." To this was a mock smile added, minute to a fair degree. Towards Tenebrae and Darian, did he grant both a slight nod after rising to his feet, almost dipping into a bow even. Retrieving those bottles of bloodwine which still rested upon his table, he then simply turned to leave, but not before glancing towards Olivius "...I suppose, I'll die again then, when I see you, non? Adieu." Olivius said to Tenebrae, "The Cenril gaurds...."
Maere said to Tenebrae, "Come...have a drink with me if you would...calm those nerves? "
Sacraos said to Kasyr, "Eh, I am. Staying out of trouble as always." Kasyr paused, at the door, turning to say something akin to, or rather exactly alike "Sorry your little friend wants to kill me as well Cheri-" Mind you, the problematic poised, was then when he turned to leave, he was being addressed again. "...What do you need to say, Monsieur?" Olivius offers the lich a gesture of salutation remembering he once shared the Cabal's crest. Diiroehn 's hellish eyes of a bleak ashen gaze slide their focus throughout the tavern, coming to rest solely upon two prominent figures. 'Jolie', and Olivius. Addressing the former, funereal words breach rotten teeth, writhing past the mouthing with tendrils of vile tone. "Tenebrae..." The use of her old name isn't accidental, for the Lich knows not this new 'Jolie'. Tenebrae 's lip quivered back over her fangs, the doughty vampiress spitting aside to the floor in a gesture of sheer hatred. "Their race has nought to do with this murder. We all know who they work for." She began stalking back and forth, in the manner of a caged leopard, fingers pushing through her hairline. "I will personally take as many down as I can." This word given the lycan, and shaking with sheer ire as yellowish glints sparked at the back of peridot coolth, Tene nodded to Maere. "Perhaps a drink. I have many plans to make.."
Terra had entered as quietly as possible, stealthed amongst the various patrons with steps drowned out by the numerous side-conversations. Speckles of blood stained any bare skin leaving the elf in a position to avoid glances and gazes to skip the questioning sure to follow. A position at the bar was taken, silence becoming Terra's best friend.
Diiroehn offers a sweeping bow to Olivius upon sidelong approach, his tattered remnants of clothing clinging against a cadaverous form. A bow; the most respectful of his gestures.
Kasyr wasn't exactly bothering with subtlety, what little bits of 'speech' that came from the vampyr he still considered a child meeting the rather open proclamation of "I'm listening Sacraos, for the moment." Myranda walks back into the tavern, looking around for any different faces,.
Maere asked the small boy beside her to find another place so that Tene may sit. Pulling it further out once the boy left with the candy Maere offered, she guestured the woman over.
Kasyr really can't help but glance after the lich, something about the reanimated dead providing particular matters of interest to the newly revived tiefling- Morbid curiosity to be sure
Sacraos growls quietly again, glancing around the tavern with semi-paranoid fervour. "Privately, eh..Please." A quick nod was given to Kasyr, a blatant attempt at signaling they communicate via their minds.
Maere said to Terra, "Afternoon darlin."
Tenebrae started over to the proffered chair, a drink indeed foremost in her mind, as well as the beginning of a plot to gain adequate vengeance for the life of a Cabal member - for that is what the dragon had been, in every sense of the word - when a chill shuddered over her flesh and she was driven to glance up at a shadow made incarnate, ivory-slatted Death itself, come home. "Diir...?"
Terra eventually lifted her gaze towards Maere, giving the slightest of greetings via a dip of the head.
Darian was receding from the torpor and stench of worldly interactions, his fingers aching at the joints to press and pulse the keys in a drugging slosh through the deadened aortas of the wanderer known as Time – the clock had been witness to his own execution, as the Corpse had drunk of toxins and blood until it had ceased to tick or tock – as he struck up the keys his fingers flushed them like the feathers of a dove that had died in his pallid grasp, and yet was flapping forth its dissonance in a light snowfall of feathers. The candles seemed to flicker, the hearth swell and emaciate with each bone-jarring closure of skin on key, until from the pregnant womb of the immortal Flame spectres burst forth in a revelry of hooves and a starry twinkle of their clash on the pulsation of his music. The figures seemed to rush and bellow in an avalanche of chords, a cavalry of notes made manifest in Flame and driven in all its equine flurry to the supple End of Time. And when there was no more time, Darian’s fingers slowed to a babble, and from his overlong nails trickled forth a brook that wept down the keys and to the floor, rising and rising and rising until the encircling spirits of flame pulled reign and urged their stallions to drink of this flow, this water music pouring before them. The Dead, quiet and unquiet alike, writhed like the lichen on their crypts in a ghastly waltz to his melange of ivory and air. The steeds drank of this slow, easeful melody and burst into cinders – before scampering back to their hearths and gilt candelabras in a flurry like a surging tide of fireflies barraging the black walls of Death. The piano-man sighed for moment as the brook trickled through the floor, and all returned to what might or might not be normal, to whatever could be considered normal after such songs have been uttered through the veins in a wrist and out the cracking knuckles to clack onto keys. Darian slumped off his piano-bench and nursed a bottle with his eyes closed and his limbs shaking on the dusty planks.
Sacraos looks around quickly, and upon spotting Terra he speaks. "You working? Eh, a glass of eh...Blood wine...And fudge. Three large peices of fudge, if your willing. Thank you."
Diiroehn sweeps his arms outward in a metaphorical embrace, the sinuous threads of flesh hanging grotesquely against archaic marrow in the personification of a grim, morbid portrait. The face, O, the face; how it thrives its enthralled expression of death's head grin, moreso malicious that the former callousness that the Harbinger of Death once possessed. The vocals emit once again, gutturals more terrible than any sadness; more cruel than the smile of the sphinx; more wretched than the cry of a banshee. "Tenebrae." One word of horrible proportions, cast forth in the cadence of hand-in-hand motif. Diiroehn has returned.
Terra glanced at Joli for a long moment, and then towards Kasyr who she had noticed upon entrance despite his lack of look towards herself. "She brought him back," Quiet, whispered words to no one. Kasyr was regarded for a moment longer, the tiefling the reason for her silence. Kasyr lounged comfortably, sort of, next to the taverns door, idle drinkings causing recognition that this bottle, in its oddity of a different shape, wasn't wine- and there was another of its kind in his hand. Oops.
Banash said to Sacraos, "Fudge... You're he. His liking of fudge certainly rings a bell."
Sacraos said to Banash, "Aye. Ello Banash." Tenebrae had paused again, in stride and conversation, to stand as still as an uncarven Galatea whilst the Wanderer played his song, transfixed - and transformed in subtle measures, the effect of which may not be shewn for decades, perhaps - and in her heart welled something finer than the Darkness, that rose to spill from her eyes in scarlet runnels, this being the only motion about her, until he was done. And, when she could finally speak - a moment, a day, she couldn't know - later, she'd offer him a single word. "Thankyou."
Olivius said to Tenebrae, "I have caused you enough troubles with my problems today. Goodnight." Terra cleared the cobwebs from mind with a violent shake of the head. Sacraos was given a nod at his request, causing Terra to move behind the bar for the second time that day. A crystalline wine-glass was selected, flipped over and sat atop the counter. The bottles (those that hadn't been damaged) aligning the wall were given a moment's consideration before Terra selected one, popping the cork off and proceeding to top the glass off. Next the peanut-butter fudge was retrieved, lay along a saucer and accompanied by a neatly folded napkin. All items were then delivered to Sacraos promptly, a nod serving as a reminder to enjoy the treats.
Tenebrae turned her face away from the player, the back of her hand brushed almost angrily at the bloody smears she'd wept, and gave Diiroehn a deep nod of chin. "Dear Lich..." It was barely a whisper, her voice coming cracked through the veil of whatever the song had woven in her. "I have missed you." She'd sink into that seat by Maere, taking up a drink, gratefully. "Thankyou, also." This, to the woman.
Sevian slips into the pub in an unheralded fashion before casting that tempest gaze of his about the tavern. With little preamble, he makes his way to the bar and slips into one of the bar stools, swiveling in it for a moment before spindly digit raise up the customary drummming motion against the shiny lacquer.
Banash said to Sacraos, "We're to do battle, no?"
Banash said to Sacraos, "The loss of my eyes... It would be a minor one. With the loss of something comes the gaining of something greater."
Maere offered Tenebrae a clean rag from her pocket, the soft linen proving to be spider-silk. Idly, Maere watched in silence, the change in her almost alarming.
Terra stopped, taking a moment to admire the piano player's wonderful abilities. Darian's form was regarded for a second by curious eyes before the sound of fingers tapping against the wood signaled her attention. The rag that was strewn across shoulder was grasped, slipped off, and used to swat at Sevian's hand. "Most people just say hello, you know."
Tenebrae took the silken cloth, a grateful glance given Maere, her face cleared in moments, the cloth stowed in her armband. "Thankyou, once more." A slight smile was given, in gratitude.
Kasyr || A twitch of a slightly pointed ear, a telltale mannerism of sorts towards the acknowledgement of something, the recognition of a voice, of sound- Ending with the varied crash of a sorts quite akin to what Olivius had caused earlier, though the catalyst was quite different. Again, that spectacular crack of glass against wood, one bottle rolling out the door after the exiting Myranda - and finally did the tiefling stir from his reverie. His expression bore an incredulous look, expectations being almost wary of the reality of this moment, as though it was threatened by some unknown force to be shorn swiftly and with little mercy. And yet, it remained, she remained, and so he tried his best to speak, timidity present in his voice, and that was hardly becoming "Cheri?... Er, Madamoiselle... Terra?"
Diiroehn outstretches his gaunt digits, the gleam of the bone visible 'pon the wash of the overhanging candelabrum's tide of illumination; sound of the pianist's music falling deafly upon gaping ear-holes. The hand, it reaches for another, for Tenebrae's, as the wicked death's head grin shines darkly --twin tombstone-hued eyes sliding within sanguine confines over her distraught form.
Terra felt a chill settle coldly into her spine, drifting up it until Terra glanced towards the cause of unease; Kasyr. As quickly as the look skittered to him, it was brought downwards and suddenly the counter was studied with an intent gaze that rivaled none other. "You're dead." A statement of the past and a refusal to acknowledge the obvious. "Not this again. You died." The pretty facial features of the elf contort to a mask of agony, tortured words continuing. "You're not here. Not another dream..."
Sevian smirks genially, grabbing the rag and interlacing it between spidery digits. Canting his head up to expose his throat, accompanied by a jerking flourish by his thumb, he near croaks out, "I've quite a damaged voice though."
Maere 's cheeks flushed softly, a pale pink appearing upon alabaster tones. "Welcome." Maere thought to herself, a strange feeling occuring to her absent mind. "Is this what it is like to be nice to people?" came the soft whisper of the reformed magess.
Tenebrae took up the skeletal digits, the bones fondly caressed as though still covered in flesh and warmth. "I'm alright, Diir, but Olivius..." This, in answer to the question that might loom in the midnight hollows of his sockets. "They killed Cabal..." Terra set aside the current dilemma, what with past protectors rising from the dead and all, to move from behind the bar to the floor. A quiet approach towards Sevian was the only movement or sound Terra gave, merely settling against him.
Kasyr looked rather pained at that particular announcement, the veracity of some of those words melded with the fiction of others. And with it came the thoughts against, figments, fractured visions to which naught was owed but a malignant mistrust to everything they had beheld. Hesitant at first, his footsteps beat a softly against the floor, though inevitably they did hasten in pace, bringing him before the countertop, besides Sevian in fact. "..I did, Oui Cheri. And...I don't think I really wish it to happen again..or...." Shaking his head fiercely, he worked to clear his throat before his hand gestured in both Joliette and Banash'es direction, credit of course due when deserved. "...They, she, he- Oui, Ils ont.." It was hard to admit to an extent, innumerable reasons making the inexplicable that much more difficult to word. "...Kanos and, they brought me back, Cheri. I'm really here." Terra appeared to be on the opposite side of Sevian, glancing at Kasyr from her makeshift shield of a person. Unable to digest or even contemplate the words offered by the tiefling, she simply pressed tighter against Sevian and refused to meet the gaze of the no-longer dead Kasyr. "I can't do this right now," Maybe after a long swig of the strongest brew she could handle it, but not now. "I...Welcome back." A lame welcome, but the most the elfess could handle. Sacraos stands quickly and leaves, giggling childishly. Tenebrae said to Diiroehn, "Olivius' dragon is no more, my gift for him, his very life. And it is Cenril at the core of it." Her lips thinned. "And it is Cenril who will pay."
Sevian after a pause of sorts, slips an arm about her, as with a tight lipped albeit curious expression on his face, he listens on, angling his head a ways back to catch Kasyr in his peripherals.
Diiroehn 's grin is all too appropriate. "Then the war is re-ignited."
Kasyr let out a sharp exhale after a few moments, before he finally turns upon his heels, doing his best to mask that feeling of dissapointment that welled up inside him, that feeling amidst the flurry of other, uglier sentiments seeming to flow out from him. Sick. Was feeling sick. And something bad was about to happen- Thus did his feet carry him outside, little but a backwards glance spared to her, and a likely inaudible "Sorry" Kyana seems to appear from out of nowhere, spontaneously generating next to you. Terra expelled a long breath and with it, released the tension building. Sagging against Sevian for just a moment she straightened, unwilling to appear so weak, so vulnerable. "Want to go watch Banny cause some damage?" A relatively calm voice questioned Sevian. Diiroehn switches the subject of the conversation, with inquiry that has been plaguing him since he first read the posts tacked upon the board. "Jolie? Tenebrae -" The use of her old name is, again, meant for, "why is it you refer to yourself under a new guise?"
Sevian nods his response, reaching around further in the embrace to grasp her wrist. In that raspy tone, he asks a shorteneed, "Are you all right?" Before he plops down from the high stool and promptly leads them out.
Veszmurss calmly walks in and upon spotting Joliette he walks to her, "Hello there Joliette." He seems to have something lingering in his voice, a possible annoyance maybe? Diiroehn said to Veszmurss, "If you'll excuse us and refrain from interrupting."
Tenebrae glanced to the parchments, a drawn-out breath expelled. "Ah.. it is no new name, Lich, but the one I was born with. I was..." She shook her head, gently, a wave of ebon shifting over the coarse glint of armours still worn. "Not myself, when I heard of Leo's death." She quickly added, "A false rumour, but I was not to know. He is much changed." Another wrack of lung. "Infected by the lycan's bite that cured him of a fever, you see, and I couldn't.. feel his life, as I once had." She sipped her rum, a little. "As it were, I forgot my life from the point of being turned onward, so all I knew was the streets of this city, memories of Garath, and.. Leo. Though I did not even recall his name, in my madness. Terra found me, in the desert, and we found Leo." She shrugged, set her drink down. "Alive. And slowly, my mind heals. But I can't seem to forget who I was, anymore..."
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Post by Joliette Thorne on Jun 8, 2007 4:11:48 GMT -5
Serena stretchs as she moves within the building sitting herself at a table after purchasing her drink. Veszmurss rolls his eyes at the Lich, finding business much more important then idle chit-chat, though he spots Serena out of the corner of his eyes and tries to remember if she is allowed here anymore or not. 'They really need a posting of that kind of stuff...' He thinks to himself.
Tenebrae sighed raggedly. "It never ends."
Diiroehn 's eyes linger upon her form, "Leoxander, you speak of? The pirate, of Eternity? A lycan? All news to me." A pause is inserted here, with the courage, or lack of nervousness, to pry further. "Why would you want to forget?" Tenebrae gave the Lich a long look. "I forget, Diiroehn, how long it's been since you were gone. Castellian is no more. Dead, I imagine. Leo and I are… well, we have been together a long time now, though." A shift to a darker look, her own hasty change of topic suited to the flow of the conversation. "I was human, once, Diir. Before Eldritch and the rest… changed me. I was good at being human, too, a survivor, and I had..." She still couldn't define it, in word or thought. "I was different." Her glance would alight on rotting flesh, smooth bone and dark cloth. "Are you come home to us, Lich?"
Diiroehn leans forward, his cold, stark irises meeting her own; studiously scrutinizing the veil they impose. "We were all different. We all change. Does this not make us what we are now? How cruel is time, that demands change. How cruel." Diiroehn relaxes slightly, "I need a home, Tenebrae." Veszmurss rolls his eyes once again, "Joliette I find my pay non-existant. Do get ahold of me when I might be getting it eh?" And with that he turns to walk out.
Tenebrae was caught in that crypt-risen gaze, as if fixated on twin and distant stars, for a while. "Cruel, indeed." The voice she used was cracked, seemed worn by care and ... time. The undead's latter statement seemed to revive her a little. "You never left, Diiroehn. Cabal is ever your home." Diiroehn said to Tenebrae , "A home I would gladly return to." Tenebrae gave him a faint smile. "Welcome back, dear Lich. It seems the day for all our peoples to return. Spawne, too, and Olivius, I was glad to see."
Diiroehn said to Tenebrae , "My return has been most welcoming, then." Tenebrae spread her arms, a gesture encompassing the tavern. "And this place is rightfully ours, now, too. When the cellar and upstairs are complete, it'll do for a headquarters until.." She glanced eastward. "Til the fortress is ours, properly."
Darian was still upon the floor, nursing his vodka, oblivious to all things, as they were oblivious in turn. His limps akimbo, like a wax man held sere and aqueous above a molten crater, he began to shiver - spastic and obliterating quakes that sifted through him like a howling torrent of wind would through a snowy peak. His teeth elongated and he moaned like a wolf cub snakebit and sweltering in the great crags of a nameless plateau - grizzled and glowing with a graveyard tan that poured forth its own ethereal chill in exhalations like a river wreathed in mists and phantasms. He convulsed and he gnashed and he growled his wolfish litany, feet scattering the piano bench from before him, arms tearing and legs and chairs and every nail in the floor and his pale, lifeless, bloodless, famished frame - but with each cut, no blood ran.
Diiroehn said to Tenebrae, "That one seems to need aid." Diiroehn gestures toward Darian. Tenebrae was startled from her conversation by the motion and sound of a man in pain-- Darian, presumed occupied with his usual steady imbuement of liquor, seen to be the cause. "Oh no..." Green eyes went wide, the vampiress on her feet in seconds, and seconds more ticked away before she was by the vampire's side, his head, if she could manage it, cradled on a forearm to prevent its further collision with the boards below, the chill emanating from his unfed flesh burning like dry ice against that of her own well-fed body. "Sire..." No heed paid, or so she thought. "Darian!" Joli... Tenebrae... whatever the hell she called herself, it was that vampiress who'd try to still his shaking frame, soothing stroked to juddering muscle and icy forehead. "Are you mad?" Moot question. "Have you not fed, since we..." This one might have an answer.
Darian forced a swill of vodka and straightened every limb to its brink, willing them to still. His jaw set like gods in devotional gypsum, moveless through the wearing press of his own fervor, which tore with all the gnawing erosion of samiels and desert tempests laden with sharded granules fit for the rending of ligaments from bone and off into the night air, dank with heat and pain. He stood, in tatters, his body no longer shaking, his face refracted from the gleam of some farflung daemon's pupils - deadset, darting a glance from artery to artery, throat to throat, pulse to pulse. His jacket fell from his shoulders in a slink, and whispered to a halt, his bare arms lithe and easeful, his black undershirt baring the scars on his moony flesh like a falling star against a livid night sky. There was so much blood around him, so much blood.
Tenebrae hooked one slim arm to the crook of his elbow, a hasty glance thrown over her shoulder to the barkeep. “Bandages to my pack, Steadman.” Whilst this order was filled, she’d round the vampire’s body, bringing herself close to the near-slavering maw of extended canines, fingers teasing open the rents in his garment to assess the sliced skin below. “I have to wrap you, or the blood’ll pour right out again, you can’t heal like this…” Whether he’d hear her or not, the near-revenant might benefit from her proximity. Once she was sure of his attention – and how could she not have it, oasis to a dying man as she was just now – she start to back away, one arm held out to recive her back from a cowering Steadman, who gave it to her and fled for the makeshift cellar behind the bar. “Come on, your Majesty…” The look she gave him was pure Tenebrae, and she raised her wrist to slice deep with a fang., offering it out like a ripe fruit. “Follow me now, there’s a pet.” She was well-fed, and fresh from training, and would have no trouble keeping ahead as she led him toward a place less public, for his… healing.
Darian let his lips curl in another scything grin, and vanished. What followed was a flurry of screams, patterned only by his freed tresses scrape of dust from the chairbacks he shot along. Dust and blood and screams, bits of neck hocked to the floor, patrons writhing, clamor, distension of Darkness as every light flickered to infinity and oblivion in an instant. A whorl of rancid Death fissured through the rooms like lead through a stained-glass pane, black and cold - patrons dropped to the floor and felt their way under tables, shuddering when a hand steeped itself in another being's blood or happened upon a fragment of a limb. With each shudder, pulses quickened, like an alarum for Darian to track and dissever from existence. There was not so much blood anymore, about this room, not so much blood at all.
Tenebrae could only stand and bleed, as the lights blurred dim and flared to blinding glare in the space of heartbeats, and with her uncut arm thrown up to shield her eyes from the blaze that surely could not come from mere candles, and the first screams resounded, continued, like a chain of abruptly severed links, terrified and horridly brief, through the room. “Darian!” The shout was the finest of all her many voices, piercing as an eagle’s whistle, and designed to petrify men in their tracks. But no answer came, and as her near-blind eyes adjusted again to the tavern’s light, she gaped at the sheer carnage wreaked, bodies spilled like the discarded husks of half-eaten fruit. “Darian…” There was defeat in that utterance, already. Hardly a soul remained alive, and of those that did, most were locked or jammed behind barriers, or dying in a loose and sluggish well of their own life’s-blood. “What have you done?” It was hardly a whisper. There was no rage in her. There was no room for rage, only shock, and a kind of awe she reserved for those proven crueller than she. Darian –was- a vampire, and more true to his nature than the vast majority of his kind. Tenebrae shivered, walked stiffly to the wine-trap and jammed a heel up and down on the boards. “Steadman. You will have some cleaning to do when you come out of there. Lots of it.” Swivelling on that heel, satisfied that the keep’d heard her from that narrow underground chamber, she stood, and waited for the King of Roads to calm from the frenzy. And when he did, she would ask, hoarsely, though she kept her tone carefully casual, “Sire, will you have your bath now?” They’d need to advertise now, for more patrons. And hush money would need be paid the survivors… Tene hoped Darian was worth it all. Terra appeared to have wondered in at a bad moment, trailing after Kasyr with the intent to speak with him. However, both approach and conversation were delayed. "Uh...?"
Kasyr was calm, disturbingly so one might say, but touching with death had at least provided him a tolerance to the macabre aspects of existance... something that was definitely qualified to be considered a boon, considering the devastation of life which rested before him, the carnage which had been left in the wake of the 'pianist' from the sound of it, something reminiscent of that other evening "Mon Dieu" Darian stood in a quaver, like a lone held breath in a hurricane, covered with blood and yet still leaking from the holes he'd accrued through his excursions, through the clawing he'd done in the midst of his own convulsions. Death was within him, and he kneeled, with a breath of flame that gave every light its flicker once again when the knee hit the ground. He was as conscious of his bloody trappings and garb as a grain of sand would be upon encountering nacre and swelling into a pearl. More was needed. Tenebrae was upon the vampire quickly, her arms entangling his own as she sought to have him rise to his feet. "Get.. up." Her breath was ragged, but not from any exertion. "Come on, you, get up." If he rose, she'd take advantage of his bloated stupor and tug him towards the door. "Gotta get things cleaned up." It was understatement of the century.
Anshera steps into the tavern with neither flare nor display, the polymorph seemingly content today to go without advertently drawing attention to herself. A moment's pause is observed, caliginous eyes of jade scanning the tavern until they come to rest upon Darian, and consequently the carnage he wrought. Her brow flicks upwards with interest, the polymorph swaggering her way over to inspect a corpse on the outermost parameter of the destruction.
Tenebrae was not above throwing the polymorph bodily from her tavern, but this was hardly the time, if quite the place. Darian managed to simultaneously stand, like the mast of some crustaceous ship which had been raised from an oceanic abyss, and collapse, like that same massed being cloven with lightning and belligerent hale, into the arms of the attending Tenebrae, encricling her neck with his grasp, breathing deeply his breaths which came in a plummet and rise like an eternal interchange of sun and moon on a heavenly backdrop. Once there, feebly he reached his protuberant fangs towards the arteries of one Tenebrae.
Sidonia walks into the tavern silently, looking rested for the first time in days. Though her raven hair is usually loose down her back, today a braid hangs there. Pale blue eyes meet the gaze of those she knows and she smiles at all inside before going to seating herself at a table near the bar. Sitting gracefully with ankles crossed, she sighs and looks about, her slender hands resting in her lap. Tenebrae took a tentative step backward, neck arced to a moon-white curvature that had her hair fall in a straight line behind. Keeping her throat thus out-of-range, if barely, of the starved near-revenant, she used her own flesh as she had planned from the outset, as bait and lure for his hunger. If he would follow, she'd tread each board with a steady inverse stride, each small victory applauded by the shrill of her next breath, until they'd left the abattoir that had, 'til that seething, blinding moment, been her pub. Still seeing glare where a room should be, knowing only shadow from shadow, and sound from sound, she could guess at those who'd wandered into the wreck. Hopefully, the few staff left might commence clean-up before the busy hour... They'd be almost at the door, when she'd stop to kick a toe to the ajar lip of the exit, hauling it wide for the pair to pass through into air that was not redolent with the copper stench of spilled life. And all the time, she'd try to lead him onward.
Terra froze, not wanting to draw attention to herself. The only thing that moved was her eyes, following Joli and Darian's steps. Banash said to Sidonia, "I've heard that we need to talk about something."
Darian plucked and plunged his feet in shaken steps through the tavern, his eyes fluttering like the wings of a rainbow dappled hummingbird, drunk of the petals of the Rose, and all its sanguinary. He caught his balance with a smearing drag of fingers down the black-water sleek, propped lid of the Baby. When he'd gotten post this pillar to lean his wearied flesh upon, he fell with a lurch towards Tenebrae and the door, unable to stand anymore, losing consciousness on the way to her arms or the floor beyond.
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