Agito
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Post by Agito on Jan 11, 2010 10:22:47 GMT
Reissa was pleased that the other Khajiit recognized her, and the quickly warming look on her face indicated this externally. "Yeah, that's what I thought," she said, in acknowledgement, voice hardening to a more confident tone and gaining a bit of volume. Her lack of a Khajiit accent gave her a voice quality almost like an Imperial, to the point where her background may have been dubious.
The robed girl kneeled down next to the table, glancing around to make sure that no one else was within bumping proximity. She figured that almost being smashed against the furniture by off-balance men who had probably had enough drink to taste like beer was unfavorable contact, and the fact that most of them probably had fifty pounds on her either way was no more encouragement. Perhaps she, too, would indulge in a drink, but certainly not as much. She could not afford to waste lots of money on food and drink.
"So, I heard that there was going to be some sort of... adventure, or something," said Reissa, "and that everyone would be meeting here about it. And, well, you know that I have no problem at all getting away from the snobs at the University. Besides, I just finished my study of something and was looking for a new project, so... hey, I can go off and do something else, for once."
Her obviously suppressed grin and the way that she folded her arms on the table gave away her excitement. Though she tried to keep her tail laying along her legs for safety, it would not quite sit still, leaving it at risk of being stepped on by some unwary patron.
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Aulakauss
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Post by Aulakauss on Jan 11, 2010 11:38:28 GMT
Karstine chuckled softly at Reissa's behavior; the girl's suppressed smile, posture and the way her tail quivered ever so slightly betrayed her excitement. She recalled a couple times when the young Khajiit had come into the bar upset over abuse at the hands of her colleagues, and those nights, she footed the bill for the girl's drinks. Twenty some odd gold out of her paycheck now and then was certainly worth it to comfort the mage on such occasions.
The times that she wasn't at the bar because she was upset, she made for rather interesting conversation when Karst could get away with being idle for a minute or two. In some ways, Reissa reminded her of Odeen with her passionate rants about subjects she loved. Perhaps that was why Karst felt attached to her, despite the girl being a relative stranger.
To be young and going on an adventure just for hell of it. Wish I'd had a chance at that. Then again, I s'pose one might call my whole damn life a freakin' adventure, Karst thought as she listened to Rei, then laughed at herself in her mind, Aw, who am I kidding? I'm just envious of her youthful innocence.
When Reissa had finished, Karst glanced about herself quickly, seeing how many people she had so far. What she saw accounted for just about everyone, save some Champions whom she figured were probably not coming at all. Figuring she'd let the others socialize and get to know one another a little before sitting everyone down and explaining it all, she kicked a chair out from under the table, hopped off and sat down next to the other Khajiit.
"Yeah, I guess you could call it an adventure. Maybe some fresh air and time away from the University'll do you some good," Karst grinned a little as she spoke, elbows on the table and chin in her palms, "Why don't you order yourself something to drink? My treat. And if you've pulled an Odeen and starved yourself because you didn't want to leave your work to eat, get some food, too."
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Post by shadow666 on Jan 11, 2010 13:08:58 GMT
Vivian it seemed wanted to talk to other people, and Mia could understand why. If they had continued to talk, something may slip, and the others may realise who Mia was.
As her eyes gazed around the room, her eyes looked upon a strange sight. A blue khajiit. You don't see one of those every day.. Mia thought to herself as she looked at the other adventurers that Karst had started talking to.
There was a breton who seemed like more of a nobleman than a hardy adventurer type, and there was also something strange about him.. almost like he was touched by the Nine. That thought immediately made Mia's eyes widen. Why would someone like that want to come along with them unless he knew what Mia was.
If he knew about us the he would have already started a fight in this tavern Demona assured Mia, but the healer wasn't so sure that it was that easy to forget. Continuing to look around she saw the new khajiit that Karst was talking to. There was almost a innocence there that Mia recognised from a few years ago.. when she herself was an innocent girl, untouched by the outside world or its corruption.
And look at me now.. she thought sadly and then looked down at the ring Vivian had given her. The memories from that ring always seemed to make the Breton feel better. The ring was a symbol that good things can come to those like herself despite the sins that may have been caused over an eternity.
Mia was lost in thought after that, trying to remember the days after the crisis where Mia wand Vivian spent all of their time together. A smile began to form on her face, and she decided to get up and head over to the counter to get a drink.
At the counter she noticed the large male Khajiit speaking with the proprietor about something but she couldn't quite make it out. Shrugging she spoke with the bar maid and bought two drinks: a bottle of Ale, and a glass of water.
After making the transaction, Mia stood there for a second, waiting for Karst to finish talking to the younger Khajiit before returning her the ale she owed her.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Jan 11, 2010 23:55:11 GMT
Following his all too brief conversation with Karst, (though considering what had happened during their last 'conversation,' he supposed that could be a blessing) Lance was relieved to learn that he hadn't missed anything too important, save wrestling match between the Khajiit and her Breton friend. Regardless, Lance made his way towards the counter, fishing out a small amount of coin from one of his pockets.
"My good man!" Lance piped up chipperly, addressing the nearby bartender. "I'll have an ale, if you please. Preferably something along the lines of cherry flavoured, if you have it." The Imperial grinned childishly. "I'm in the mood for something fruity."
The bartender let out a bit of a grunt, rolling his eyes disbelievingly. "Whatever you say, buttercup," he muttered, before heading back to retrieve the drink.
Lance took the opportunity to look around at the others in the tavern, silently wondering just how many of them had been summoned by their fuzzy benefactor, Karst. He also noted that several of them looked considerably more grizzled than he, but he wasn't about to let that bother him. He knew well enough that appearances weren't everything.
Though Lance's gaze seemed to jump between patrons, never lingering on one person for very long, there was one specific newcomer that caught his eye. What...the hell? Lance was nearly stricken dumb, as he watched a blue furred Khajiit enter the bar.
Seems this trip keeps getting more interesting... Lance thought to himself.
"Son of a bitch..." At the bartender's uncouth mutterings, Lance turned around to see the man had returned with his drink. His gaze shifting from the blue haired Khajiit to Lance himself, the bartender shook his head. "What the hell is it with you weirdos, always showing up at the same time?" he asked grumpily.
"It's a sixth sense, really," Lance replied before he could stop himself, grinning. "We can sense each other." The bartender unceremoniously left the ale on the counter before leaving to tend to other patrons, as Lance silently pondered his newfound situation.
Yes, life was nothing if not interesting...
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Post by Kleidium on Jan 12, 2010 4:40:21 GMT
Odeen quickly looked up, following the familiar voice that had addressed him. "Oh, hello there!" He replied, smiling, surprised to even see the Dunmer after all these years. "I've been well...you know, I learned a lot traveling with our ragtag group of unlikely heroes. Heh, and in my few adventures afterward. But honestly, none of them compare to what we had all went through on that journey." He explained, sitting up to motion at the chair across from him.
"Want to sit down and talk? I...don't know many people here and honestly, I think you, Karst, and Mia are the only ones I really recognize. I never come down to the Waterfront, so I wouldn't know many people..." The alchemist offered, hesitating. "...How were you after we went our separate ways? If you'd rather keep it to yourself, that's fine...but it seems to me like you've been a bit rough." Odeen asked silently, his smile fading into the look of a old concerned friend. He glanced at Vivian's scar as he spoke.
Did he have that the last time I saw him? I don't think so...but then again, it was so long ago...
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Agito
Novice
Fantastic Musical Diatom
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Post by Agito on Jan 12, 2010 21:22:37 GMT
"No, I'm fine," said Reissa. "I ate not too long before I came. I snack a lot." She chuckled mischievously, thinking about how much food she could sneak from the University larder, with almost nobody noticing or caring just how much disappeared. The Guild could easily afford plenty of food. However, she did not really see this as a flaw; she did use anything she did not eat to practice her alchemy, and most of the potions she made as practice "anomalously" appeared in the University supply, if they had no place in her pocket.
She adjusted her robe on her shoulders, pulling one side over her pointed knee. "Anyway, I was wondering if, on this 'adventure,' I would be able to gather lots of ingredients and stuff to study. I mean, we have lots at the University, but we have to buy all the good stuff for ourselves, and it isn't like they pay us lots even if we make really useful potions."
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Post by Vicorva on Jan 12, 2010 21:48:35 GMT
OOC: Nari at Nelson, Zaire at Lance.
Qa'Nari stood in the middle of the room, a food-mountain on a world-disc of a plate held lazily in one hand and threatening each second to slip to the floor. His eyes were fixed back at his former seat at the table with Vivian and Mia, but the twitchy argonian was there now, and the cathay didn't want to get caught in the middle of any emotional conversations or breast-flashing.
He tilted his head to one side, a bit of his pale mane falling into his face. It had been a long day already. He wondered where he should sit. Every table seemed to have been taken, unfriendly eyes seemed to leer about him from all around the room. For every furtive glance sent his way, Qa'Nari returned only a furrowed brow and slightly downturned lips.
He needed to discreetly gather his armour and pack, and find somewhere to eat his meal. Possibly, he could sit at the bar without disturbing anyone, but Qa'Nari found bar stools rather small. As he surveyed the room with a look of deep concentration, his crystalline eyes alighted on the figure of a young human, simply dressed, rather small by his standards, sitting alone. His ears perked forwards hopefully; he'd seen this man somewhere before, hadn't he? Yes, Karstine had spoken to him, offered him a drink.
He seemed to be sitting alone, not too far away from Karstine, either. The cathay hesitated, hovering between wanting to eat his meal in peace and worrying about his pack and armour.
Vivian's a sharp man. He probably won't let anything get stolen. It was a half-hearted thought, and the idea that a former lover might distract Vivian didn't even enter into 'Nari's mind (if former lover's ever did).
He approached the table where the young man was seated. "If you would not find it objectionable, could I eat at your table?" he asked in his slow voice. "-Please?" he added reflexively against a thwap from his mother that hadn't come in ten and more years but had a lasting effect on his psyche.
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"You're perfect," she breathed.
Zaire slid sinuously into the seat beside the tanned imperial, all feline grace and charm as she gave him a coy smile. "Well, apart from the unnatural magnetism for 'weirdos'. What kind of company must you draw?" She tssked and shook her head ever so slightly, a disapproving frown tugging her lips even as her eyes twinkled brightly with secret mirth.
The bartender turned at the sound of her voice, and she winced at the look of contained fury in the altmer's eyes. "I thought I told you-,"
"-Have you met Chase, here?" Zaire interrupted. "Or Quickfists, as they call him. Pitdog, you know. Wouldn't hear of me leaving," She turned and smiled beautifully at Lance, mustering all her charm in an attempt to fool Ormil and get the adventurer on her side. "We're best friends. Bosom pals. Soulmates, even," she continued lightly. "Why, I'd have kissed him except I haven't brushed my teeth."
There was a distinct no-contact divide between the imperial and herself, mostly because Zaire had no reason to trust this stranger and was always on the watch for a sudden attack, but also because she just didn't like to be touched, and politely assumed that others were the same unless indicated otherwise. If the imperial didn't play along, what might have been considered embellishment would be revealed as lies, and Zaire could very well end up out on her tail with only the hope of being able to wait the group out to look forwards to.
She knew she was walking a tightrope here, but she had little other choice. She was relying heavily on the man's seasoned appearance to get Ormil to leave them alone, and on the imperial's evident sense of humour to get him to play along with the crazy blue khajiit.
If I'm not funny, then nothing is, she thought and wasted no time on bitterness. Come on, she urged. Please...
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Aulakauss
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Post by Aulakauss on Jan 13, 2010 17:36:25 GMT
"No, I'm fine. I ate not too long before I came. I snack a lot." Reissa said and chuckled mischievously. Karst was glad to hear the girl kept care of herself better than Odeen. Sometimes, Karst swore the lizard would let himself starve to death if she didn't go to the University and make him eat. "Anyway, I was wondering if, on this 'adventure,' I would be able to gather lots of ingredients and stuff to study," Reissa went on, "I mean, we have lots at the University, but we have to buy all the good stuff for ourselves, and it isn't like they pay us lots even if we make really useful potions." Karst had to think on this one. She honestly had no idea where she was leading everyone to on the other side of that locked metal door to nowhere. The only clue she had was the bored voice that had informed her of her need to form a group. Her first and natural assumption was it was something Daedric, but upon later consideration, Karst realized that she just wanted it to be Daedric. She really had no evidence either way. Sure would be nice to see a realm other than the Deadlands, though. Talk about a place that needs a woman's touch.."Well, Reissa, I honestly don't know," Karst said, giving the other cat a contemplative look, "I suppose we'll just have to find out when we get there." _______
[ooc] Now, everybody, meet your new Madgod. Do be patient with him, he's going through a lot. [/ooc]
- New Sheoth, Palace of Sheogorath - Garbed in his usual black-and-red outfit, Haskill fiddled with the chain about his neck as he casually watched the grown man before him cry. This was the third outburst like this within the month. He sighed. Sitting on the floor against the throne of his title, his face in his hands and his long white hair hiding his expression, Dunken sobbed hysterically. "It's not fair, Haskill!" The Madgod roared, his voice quickly dropping to a somber squeak, "He took my cheese.." Ever calm, the chamberlain approached and knelt by his Lord, placing a hand on the mer's armored shoulder. "I know, my Lord, and you have my greatest condolences at your loss." Haskill began, pondering how to calm him down, "Perhaps a new vault could be built here, in the city? We could have it filled within the month." Quickly, Haskill took a step back as Dunken stood up without warning, grabbing him under the shoulders and lifting him to eye level, a foot and a half off the ground. As he stared into the Madgod's red eyes, he could see rage and sorrow within them. Dunken's face was contorted into a shape that fit these emotions well. "You don't understand, Haskill.. He. Took. My. CHEESE!" Releasing his loyal servant, Dunken paced about the room, the fires from the yellow and purple torches lining the edges of the throne room casting strange reflections off the faces on his Madness armor as he turned this way and that. Haskill himself landed with feline grace when he was dropped, straightening his suit and listening patiently. "What's the point in living if I can't have my cheese? I.. I might as well just give up. Tell him he's won," Dunken said hopelessly, stroking his white goatee until hairs started coming off in his hands. Green mist began drifting off his body in wisps, slowly curling into emerald fire. As he continued to pace, the flames became a firestorm around him, swirling angrily about his frame. He threw his arms into the air in the middle of the room, illuminating the chamber with green. "I know what must be done!" Dunken's voice boomed from the flames, "I'll burn the realm, leave him nothing! His ducks can face apocalypse, along with everyone else! Give the order and send the clowns, Haskill, my will must be done!""Or we could just kill the ducks and get it back, Father," a voice like silk interjected. The ball of fire around the Madgod dissipated into butterflies, which quickly fled the room. Dunken looked up and smiled at the newcomer, who was leaning casually on the stone ledge of the Mania-side entryway. Haskill breathed a sigh of relief. "Ah, Prince Xelinar. As usual, your timing is impeccable," the balding man stated, "I assume you have a plan as well?" Leaping the wall into the light of the room, an unusual creature approached Dunken; smooth, jet black skin covered his body, the purity of it broken by dark red veins and glowing runes that appeared to have been burned into his flesh. The creature was a scant five and a half feet tall, clad in a black, sleeveless robe, a starkly contrasting thing of masculinity and feminine grace in one body. He flashed a smile and his jagged teeth. "According to Greldar, the 'kitty lady' as you called her has almost gotten her party together. I suspect they will be here tomorrow," the half-Dremora spoke coolly, black eyes sparkling, "Let's hope they don't die as hilariously the other three groups did, shall we?" "See, Haskill? These things work themselves out on their own, like I said. No need to get so worked up," Dunken chastised his chamberlain and turned to face his son, "See to it that they get my cheese back."
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Post by Anticlere on Jan 13, 2010 20:46:39 GMT
Nelson couldn't help but feel left out. Of course, he had no one to blame but himself, but then one had to realize that he wasn't any ordinary man; he didn't know what others who, at some point in Tamriel's history, might've been stuck in a position like his thought, but he for one didn't feel quite ready for the world beyond the heavy walls of the priory. Living with the Knights made him excellent when it came to being official; he was confident he could do well in a court of some sort, at least well enough not to shame himself utterly. Of course the best thing was contemplative silence, or at least it used to be. These days he couldn't seem to trust his mind not to wander somewhere undesirable.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if half those... people... didn't look like they'd rip my head off if I so much as looked at them for too long. His glance slid across the faces of those assembled in the tavern; it didn't surprise the ex-squire that most the people were regulars, in other word run-down drunks.
'Course I didn't expect knights and monks when I went down the Waterfront way... but still. The only people who don't look murderous are, apparently, Champions, or could be; not to mention I don't even know any of them. I suppose I'll need to get to know them, one way or another, because obviously approaching this like that won't do me much good. Er... maybe I'll do it later though.
It seemed, however, that Nelson was cursed that evening to be startled by someone whenever his thoughts had their way - once again he flinched slightly when a slow voice inquired about eating at his table. At least this time there was a reason to flinch though, as when his gaze shifted from the blank wooden wall to the man - or, rather, beast-folk - before him, he realized that this was a fairly enormous example of a Khajiit; not all that surprising considering this was apparently one of the 'jaguar men', or at least some variety of them; Khajiiti always confused Nelson and the fact he never encountered too many of them didn't help. That didn't stop him from making the conclusion that this was a large Khajiit compared to his tiny self.
"Err..." Surprise bloomed on Nelson's face as he noticed the heap of food the Khajiit was carrying; the size suited the warrior - as this was obviously a warrior - perfectly. Nelson couldn't really imagine himself eating all of that, except he was given a week; taking after the Knights' strict diet he ate very little.
His considerations about the plate, however, were cut short when he realized he gave no response other than the surprised 'err'.
"Certainly, feel free to!" He caught himself standing up reflexively and dropped back down on his seat; hopefully no one would notice anything. I didn't lift up too much, didn't I? Better than the first days... He smiled a tiny meek smile, uncertain how the Khajiit would react to this, as some people tended to find it funny or crazy for whatever reason and, since Nelson allowed such things to get to him, they quite did. He kept telling himself that there was nothing shamefull in acting like the Knights had taught him to, for example standing up while those older were only just getting seated, but then he had to remind himself he wasn't a knight anymore.
Trying to draw the Khajiit's attention from what had transpired, Nelson decided to go on the offensive before questions could be asked. His nervous voice, however, would probably give away his intentions when asking this question; he could only curse himself for not sounding curious, however.
"If you don't mind me asking, I take it you, too, are comming on this... adventure?"
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Post by shadow666 on Jan 13, 2010 23:03:18 GMT
After seeing that everyone else was now talking to each other, it made Mia feel a little left out. but realising she still had Karst's bottle in her hand, she quickly gulped down her own drink, and walked over to where the two khajiit's were talking, and bopped Karst over the head lightly with the bottle. "Here, don't say i don't give you anything" Mia said and grinned, and then looked over to the younger Khajiit, and noticed the robe.
If she ever finds out about me, she will talk my ear off like karst.. Mages are always like that Mia thought to herself and then looked back at Karst. "I see you are busy, so i'll go and sit back down with the others until you are ready to tell us more about this adventure" The Breton finished and waited for Karst to take the bottle before leaving
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Post by FC4 on Jan 14, 2010 23:39:43 GMT
"Yeah, I've been a bit on the rough side." Vivian responded to Odeen, looking over at Mia as she got up from the table to approach Karst. In was then he noticed unattended armor at the seat Qa'Nari once occupied. That might be a problem...
"How about you come sit at this table, Odeen. Mia's got a seat here and I'm watching a friend's gear." He turned around to sit properly in his chair, facing the table. Seeing as their tables were beside each other, it wasn't really necessary for Odeen to move, but since Vivian would have to turn around to keep talking to him, and moving around that mound of Khajiit armor would be cumbersome, it was the most convenient procedure. He waved down a barmaid, hanging his black leather quiver off of Qa'Nari's seat, the blackened yew bow protruding from the arrow-filled quiver.
"I need two glasses of Mead, please." Vivian had taken a liking to the sweetened Nordic ale common in Cyrodiil's northern and middle regions.
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Post by Kleidium on Jan 15, 2010 4:12:32 GMT
"Oh. Okay, that's fine with me." Odeen replied, complying with Vivian's wishes. The Argonian moved his bag of goods across to the other table, taking a seat next to Vivian. "So..." He began again, in thought. "I'm sorry to hear that. But it is good to see you again...I always wondered what everyone else went on to do. I still stuck with Karst, obviously. I just hope fate's been treating you at least somewhat decently lately..." As he said this, the barmaid that Vivian called down was already in the process of delivering the drink Karst had ordered for Odeen, and nodded to him, hurrying on her way.
"In a moment, sir." She said to Vivian, as Odeen looked at his tea, contented. He took a sip, and, quite satisfied, gulped a mouthful down before placing it back on the table.
"Anything in particular you would like to talk about? I'm opening for anything, really..." The alchemist asked, fiddling with his tiny claws. They looked more like fingernails than claws, but they still had a slight pointed edge to them.
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Post by DarkNova50 on Jan 15, 2010 7:16:16 GMT
His tankard of ale suspended halfway between the counter and his mouth by an absent-minded grip, Lance had barely enough time to turn and regard the aquamarine Khajiit now sitting next to him with a curious expression, before the Altmer bartender shot her an angry expression.
"I thought I told you-" the Elf began, and it didn't take a genius to make out the obvious hostility of his tone.
"Have you met Chase, here?" the turquoise feline interrupted, at which Lance could only assume she meant him. "Or Quickfists, as they call him. Pitdog, you know. Wouldn't hear of me leaving," It was at that moment that the woman chose to turn and regard Lance with a gorgeous smile that, despite himself, caused Lance's heart to quicken, ever so slightly.
"We're best friends. Bosom pals. Soulmates, even," the woman threw in casually. "Why, I'd have kissed him except I haven't brushed my teeth."
Lance quickly found himself fighting back a slight snicker, actually rather amused with the entire situation. Had he not spent so much time around Khajiits as a youth, becoming used to their...eccentricities, he might have been off put by the woman's obvious lies. As it stood, however, he found himself curiously compelled to play along.
"So, what of it, Imperial?" the bartender asked curiously, turning towards Lance. "You know her?"
Lance's arguably youthful looking face errupted in a broad grin, as he wrapped a single arm around the woman's shoulders, drawing her in close. You started this, he thought to himself with a tone of humour.
"Didn't you hear the lady? We're best buds. Soul mates," Lance replied casually, struggling to keep himself at a grin and not full out laughter. "Lovers. Hell, the sex...I don't mind telling you, bud...that shit'll melt your-"
The Altmer raised his hands defensively, a look of disgust crossing his features. "Alright, alright!" he shot back quickly. "I don't need all the hairy-" The Elf seemed to pause midsentence, then shake his head defeatedly. "Just drink yer damn drink..." And with that, he turned around and went to tending to the other patrons.
Now that the woman with the cyan fur's ploy had worked, Lance removed his arm from around the Khajiit's shoulders, and flashed a genuine, friendly smile. "Name's Lance Cochrane, in case you were wondering, lover." He chuckled slightly. "To whom do I owe the pleasure, anyway?"
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Aulakauss
Waker
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Post by Aulakauss on Jan 15, 2010 9:14:01 GMT
Karst had barely finished her sentence when something hard hit her on the head with a soft 'thok.' Without moving her head, she looked up at Mia, who was brandishing a bottle of ale.
"Here, don't say I don't give you anything," Mia grinned at her. Karst grinned back, but for a different reason: the girl's outfit was entirely inappropriate for a healer. She wondered if Demona had dressed them this morning. "I see you are busy, so I'll go and sit back down with the others until you are ready to tell us more about this adventure."
The smallish Khajiit snatched her ale and yanked the cork out with her teeth, spitting it casually into one hand then tossing it on the table before her. "Thanks. Just want to make sure everyone who's gonna be here gets here, then I'll get us all in one spot and talk to ya," she said and raised the bottle to her lips, laughing dryly, "Nice shirt, by the way. Good thing those monks are blind." Tilting her head and her ears back, Karst drank deeply, placing the ale gently on the wooden surface when she was done. She slouched in her chair in semi-boredom until she caught the middle of a conversation going on nearby.
"We're best friends. Bosom pals. Soulmates, even," a female voice spoke lightly, "Why, I'd have kissed him except I haven't brushed my teeth."
That's gotta be the most interesting thing I've heard all day. Karst laughed mentally and glanced to her right to see what was going on at the bar. The female voice apparently belonged to the interestingly colored Khajiit, and Karst figured that her manner of speaking fit her appearance well. What she didn't expect was to see Lance sitting beside her. It took her mind a second to work in spite of the alcohol, but when it did, she adopted an expression of genuine confusion. Her and Lance are what now?
Lance, in turn, put his arm about the girl when Ormil asked if he knew her. As he went on, Karst's bewilderment was replaced with amusement. As he finished his little speech and the Altmer left in disgust, he introduced himself to the little kitty. Karst cracked her usual amused grin and kept one ear back to continue her eavesdropping. Turning back to Reissa and her ale, she snickered softly.
Sounds like some awesome [censored] sex, she thought, still grinning at the corner of her mouth. Killing another quarter of her bottle, Karst made a mental note to complement Lance on his improv later. Good thing Ormil interrupted him, though. Any more detail and she might've thwacked 'im.
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Post by Vicorva on Jan 15, 2010 9:59:50 GMT
"Er..." the human gazed up at him, looking unnerved, then leapt to his feet and just as quickly planted himself in his seat again. 'Nari tilted his head ever so slightly to the side at this curious display, but othewise said nothing. "Certainly! Feel free too!" the imperial hastened to add to his incoherent indecision.
'Nari sat down, remembering to give the imperial a smile. Although he hadn't meant it too, it had a very calming quality to it. However, the young man's brain seemed to be ticking over rather quickly, and it was quite likely he hadn't noticed.
He quickly took the offensive. "If you don't mind me asking," he said, almost as soon as 'Nari sat down. "I take it you, too, are coming on this... adventure?" He sounded extremely nervous, and that set the cathay very much at ease.
Probably won't do anything too weird, he thought. If he noticed the imperial's lack of animation on this subject, he didn't seem to mind. Qa'Nari, for his part, was rather more comfortable following the set script of introductions than being placed in anything... uncomfortable.
"Yeah," he replied, nodding his head. "I like to explore, and I travel a lot anyway. I thought it might be... nice." I hope it might be nice, he corrected himself. He shifted in his seat, and took a large bite of his food, which he quickly sent on its way to his stomach. "I'm Qa'Nari," he told the young man, knowing this was expected. "What about you?"
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"So what of it, Imperial? You know her?" Time seemed to stand still for Zaire, an annoying cliche that always seemed to come and bite her in the ass. She found it hard not to let her nerves show, but despite her wariness, pleading had filled her eyes as she smiled at the imperial.
She really, really didn't want to get thrown at. This was her one chance to leave this place, and all its conspiracies, isolation and neurosis behind. She could start again, find her home, just like the voice had promised. This was her chance.
And it was hanging by a thread. The second that it took for the response to come was hovering, making her mentally squirm before the moment truly came.
Tick! Decision filled the imperial's eyes, and time started moving again.
Much, much too quickly.
HE'S AN ASSASSIN!
Suddenly she was wrapped in a strong arm and pressed rather close to his body. Her eyes widened in surprise. He was already speaking before she could react.
"Didn't you hear the lady? We're best buds. Soul mates," Okay, not an assassin. But oh Gods, was this going where she thought it- "-Lovers."
Well, I guess I asked for- "Hell, the sex," he continued. She tensed. "I don't mind telling you, bud, that shit'll melt your-,"
Ormil left. Zaire watched him go, moving herself out of the imperial's grasp with almost perfect timing with his own release.
Who knew my amazing prowess would make Ormil so uncomfortable?
That wasn't real, stupid, he was just helping you out.
That's true. How much of a [censored] would I be if I slept with him without meeting him?
You'd be a paradoxical [censored]. Now stop having humorous conversations with yourself. If there's a telepath in the room, they'll think you're crazy.
I am crazy. And telepaths might not exist.
Best not to take chances. Now, say thank you to Chase.
And if he expects a bigger thank you?
Summon Chompy and run like hells.
This was the accepted contingency for any hitch. She returned her gaze to Lance as he flashed her a friendly smile rather than a suggestive one. Zaire relaxed a little, and was profoundly grateful that conversations with yourself take little to no time at all.
"Name's Lance Cochrane," said the imperial named Lance. "In case you were wondering, lover." He chuckled, and Zaire smiled shyly in response. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"
Her heart was still-beating fast, but it was calming down now that the adrenaline was wearing off, and her boldness had made way for her usual quiet nature. "I- I'm Zaire Corva," she replied hesitantly, but her dark eyes were friendly and her ears perked forwards curiously. "A dunmer, as I'm sure you can tell by my pointy ears and apparent promiscuity." She gained enough confidence to give him a wider smile, still shy but with a mischief it was hard to miss.
"If you were one whit less imaginative and more boring, I'd be out on my tail. As the khajiits say. I wouldn't say that, I'm a dunmer. Clearly." She cleared her throat.
"So, thanks for not being boring," she seemed to relax a little more, and reached up to tug a short coppery braid of hair in thought. "Um, I don't suppose you could direct me to whoever stuck up posters all around the city?"
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