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Old December 25, 2016, 11:31 PM   #1 (permalink)
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[Prime, Crown Inn and Tavern] ~Remember Who You Are~ (open)

~Time Stamp~
Middle of Immanis
Era XXIII

When it should come to pass that a man, being of middling age and unrivaled beauty, finds himself lonely, there is but one destination: a tavern. So it was that Antonius Verilius found himself in one such establishment. His eyes had not been graced by the presence of his one time lover in many an era. "Abandoned her," he thought to himself as he took a swig of dark ale. That was the feeling the man was sure the lady had of him. It was true though. Anton had stolen her virtue and never again called upon her. For what reason? Was he terrified of commitment? The reasons mattered not. There was no sense wallowing in the past. The present was exactly that: a gift. He was in good standing with the rest of his family at least. That was a small comfort.

How came it that this man emerged into the sunslight once more? A thirst for adventure? Perhaps. Truthfully there was no delusion of grandeur when Anton decided to tour the realm. He was bored. He craved attention. Taverns usually itched that scratch for him.

As that amber liquid of the gods passed through his lips and into his belly, his eyes were drinking in the room. The din of the people was oddly comforting. He was alone at a table with his back in the corner, yet he felt at home. This was the life he had led all those eras ago. This was the time before he learned of his true patronage. He loved his family, he truly did. But that nostalgia for his simpler life would always be with him. Anton was a simple man. A simple man. He enjoyed simple things. Beer. Women. He mostly missed the easiness of his previous life. He missed the time when there was no one else to depend on him. He did not long for that time to return, but it was duly missed.

Here in the most ancient of taverns in the Empire, the man contemplated his past and remained hopeful of his future. The Crown Inn and Tavern exemplified every bit of its legend. The place was gorgeously unrefined and bustling with every sort of creature. He watched as several wenches went scampering past, each one deftly balancing their serving trays with a grace that only could be borne of necessity. The female form had a sacred litheness about it that Antonius was always willing to study closer. The curve of a back that was able to bend out of reach of a patron who was on a collision course, was the sort of gymnastic feat Antonius knew he would never be able to achieve so quickly. Yet women did it without even thinking. It was as if their entire bodies were constantly on high alert and had minds of their own that could act independently of the one that contained thoughts. They were simply "Beautiful," Antonius could not stop the word from escaping his lips. Luckily the sound was lost in the pandemonium of the tavern.

For candlemarks Antonius sat in his corner. His ale was never empty. The sirens of the tavern would never allow him to be thirsty. No one spoke to him. People drew near to him, some so close that he could smell the musk on their skin. Yet none touched him. He was in his own cocoon. This time of partnered solitude was electrifying. He could feel the people's energy flowing through and around him. It reminded him of the time he attempted to learn mysticism. He vaguely wondered if at least a little portion of that failed endeavor had remained with him.

While these thoughts were whirling in his mind, he could feel his spirits growing brighter. Perhaps it was the ale, perhaps it was being around people, but his soul was rejuvenating. He felt as if a heavy burden were slowly being lifted from his broad shoulders. Echoes of words he had said in the past whizzed past his ears. He could almost hear complete sentences, but when he turned to see the source of the noise, they were gone.

One memory latched on tightly and whispered directly into his ears so he could not mistake any word. "I like to know that all eyes are on me and watching, waiting for my next move. It's exhilarating. I would hate to be the one in the crowd that is easily forgotten. After I die, I want people to still think about me and recant the things I've done. Not how many people I murdered in the wars, not how much property I owned, but how much joy I brought to their lives. Even if I met them for one darkening, I want to leave that person with a good taste in their mouth." His own voice faded away.

A smile crept across his lips as it grew to his eyes and they brightened as they once had eras before. That was it! That was the Antonius he had forgotten! He slammed his mug on the table with a boisterous laugh and stood. With his legged propped up on the chair that been housing his rear end for who knows how many candlemarks, Antonius beckoned for the crowd to listen to him. This was something he had not done in an extremely long time.

He sang...

I'll tell my ma, when I go home,
The boys won't leave the girls alone,
They pull my hair and stole my comb,
And that's alright till I go home,
She is handsome, she is pretty,
She is the belle of Jaedaxia city,
She is courtin', one two three,
Please won't you tell me who is she?


And as he sang this old traditional pub song, Antonius could feel the vigor of his youth returning. His simple dream was easily attainable when the right spirit embodied him.
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Old December 27, 2016, 08:04 PM   #2 (permalink)
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you. are. welcome. lol

“Oh my gods, that old guy is singing!” Natash screeched, smacking her hand upon the table to get the other girls’ attention. The golden crown she wore slipped sideways upon her dark head. She and her two friends fell upon one another, laughing and whispering as they gawked at the man. Gretchyn stared openly as she twirled her auburn curls around her finger, her face barely visible under her large hat, a monstrosity of pink roses. Kerrin giggled helplessly into her hands before letting her forehead fall to the table, miniature top hat still firmly pinned to her head. Natash twirled her hand impatiently at her sister, imploring her to turn around and look.

Igrainne rolled her eyes and reached over Kerrin’s mess of bright hair to rescue her drink. They’d barely been in the Crown for a whole candlemark. How had they gotten so drunk, so quickly?

“Igrainne, you’re missing it!” Natash pleaded, her voice edging toward a childish whine.

She knew that note. Why did they always end up arguing? She’d come all the way to Prime to visit her mother and sister before heading west, although she left that part out of conversation. She wanted to spend time with Natash, to celebrate her sister's birthday, to have fun.

They had rarely spent time together since they’d left the farm; Igrainne had gone to work at Caronis Keep while Natash had been apprenticed to a dressmaker in Prime. Igrainne had hoped to be a maid; instead, Veleraen had given her a title, and land, and made her castellan. Her sister had not forgiven her, and had burned through a dozen half-hearted apprenticeships in the last two eras. Igrainne often complained to Walen about their youngest sibling’s wild ways- her inability to keep a job, staying out late and worrying their mother, her awful friends- but he always treated her like she was overreacting.

Igraaaainnnne!

She really did not want this to turn into an argument. Fine. She would look at the poor drunk man. Igrainne turned her head enough to glance at him over her shoulder, doing her best not to look as embarrassed as she felt on his behalf.

“He doesn’t look that old. He’s what, forty?” she said as Natash and Gretchyn made faces at each other, horrified at the very idea.

“And his voice isn’t half bad,” she decided, turning back around and helping Kerrin up from the table. “Honestly, how are you this drunk? You’ve only had two.”

“Two here,” countered Kerrin before dissolving into laughter again. The other two girls found this to be irresistibly funny and cheered as they lifted their cups.

“How old are you again?” Igrainne asked her, suddenly unsure.

“They’re old enough to be here,” her sister countered. “We do this all the time. Besides, it’s my birthday, and you promised-”

Igrainne put her hands up. “I know. I know.” She sighed, the next words sounding resigned. “I’ll get the next round.” She stood up.

“Hat!” called Natash.

“Hat! Hat! Hat!” chanted the other girls.

Fine.” Igrainne lifted the alarming blue creation and planted it resolutely upon her head. It featured a massive bow, feathers, and, worse, an unnecessary birdcage veil of netting over her face- and it was all so very blue. It happened to nicely match the blue of her new gown, which made the hat look intentional. She hated her sister.

“Haaaaaat!” they toasted as she stalked over to the bar, waiting to order their next round.
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Old December 27, 2016, 11:37 PM   #3 (permalink)
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Love you too lol

Another round of the chorus and Antonius had a good crowd joining in with him. These old shanties had a way of bringing people together. Somehow everyone always knew the words. Those that did not, were able to pick up on the melody enough to boost the words of the others'. His heart was full. At least that was what he thought at first. No, there was something else that was full: something lower.

Sitting for candlemarks on end and drinking the nectar of the gods, had had an effect on the man. Sure there was the usual effect; general merriment and sense of self importance. But somewhere around the third time singing "She is handsome, she is pretty," Anton felt the unmistakable urge to purge... his bladder. It was pretty urgent. He needed to go now. Never one to leave his drink unattended, he gulped down the rest of his brew and leapt into action. A wave of his hand over his head told his fellow merrymakers that all was well and he would return soon. And so they continued the song without him.

Outside of his bubble of fun, Antonius was forced to make nice as his attempted to move as lithely as the bar wenches. He was twice as big, half as nimble, and three times as uncomfortable with his current state of affairs. There were a few people who ended up being gently nudged by his backside while he was avoiding contact with someone else. Each movement only caused his predicament to worsen. But finally, finally, he reached the door to the latrine. He pushed on the wooden entrance only to find it locked.

Leaning his forehead on the only thing that remained between him and sweet, sweet relief, he closed his eyes and concentrated. He could hold out a few more moments. This was not a big deal. He had been through worse. He slowed his breath and forced himself to stand as still as a statue. It took deep thought, but he was coping.

The door suddenly opened, Antonius nearly fell flat on his face into the previous occupant. He mustered a quick sorry and smile before slamming the door and evacuating his bladder. He felt like a new man. It was if thirty pounds had been lifted from him. His trousers fit a little looser. Never before in his life had experienced such a lifting of burdens from his physical self. It was truly profound.

He washed his hands and emerged from the water closet, smiling. He glanced over to the corner he had previously occupied. The group were onto some other song now. He hadn't heard it before. It seemed it was his turn to sing percussion. But first he needed a refill. It would be faster to get it himself from the bar.

Walking much more smoothly this time, all urgency had faded from him, Antonius was able to weed his way through the crowd without disturbance. He was thankful. There was a blue creature at the bar. No, not a creature. It was a lady; a woman. But she was dressed like a peacock. Was this fashion? He rubbed his eyes, thinking someone might have slipped something into his drink that caused hallucinations. When they reopened, the woman was still there in all her finery. So this was the way fancy ladies dressed in Aelyria Prime. Anton shrugged. Who was he to judge someone else's sense of clothing? He basically wore the same tunic and trousers each brightening. If it weren't for the maids at the family Chateau, he doubted his clothes would even be clean.

The man decided to stand next to this interesting character. Maybe she could teach him something about women's fashion. In any case, it would be nice to hear a delicate voice directed in his direction. His eras in Jaedaxia had helped him learn the language a little, but truth be told his accent was still dreadful. "Excusez moi mademoiselle, may I say that your dress and hat are very... interesting?" She had an innocence about her that only the young could possess. There was strength in her posture, but her eyes still revealed wildness. "I wonder if you would allow me to buy you a drink?"
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Old December 30, 2016, 06:35 PM   #4 (permalink)
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I can't believe no one else is joining. We're THE MOST fun!

Igrainne leaned forward, her eyes upon a bartender’s backside. If she were a mystic, she thought, she’d summon him right over. She glanced back at the table, where her sister was telling a story that had her friends in stitches again. She found herself smiling at them. Why had she been so annoyed? They were having a good time, like she ought to be. Natash was right about that, at least; Igrainne should be having fun for once.

She shifted, wondering if she should walk around to another part of the long bar, and then a man began a strange incantation that turned out to be a language she didn’t know. Igrainne realized that he was addressing her. She was going to kill her sister for this hat choice! The young woman waded through the botched Jaedaxian to sort out his- well, was that really a compliment?

“Thank you. Are you an admirer of the dark art of millinery, then?” she answered him, focused on gaining the attention of a bartender, any bartender. She didn’t look at him until she’d managed to wave someone over, and then was surprised to find the maybe-not-old singer. She immediately suspected that one of the girls had put him up to this.

“Oh, you’re the singer!” she exclaimed, stalling for time while she developed a plan. “My friends so loved your performance.” She felt mean for doing this, but then, he’d clearly been told to make a pass at her and hadn’t even bothered to make it plausible. Igrainne gave her best, most radiant smile, which may or may not have been visible through all that netting.

“This is your lucky brightening, sir, for not only will I let you buy me a drink, I shall let you buy me four drinks.” She cheerfully gave their order to the man behind the counter, and indicated that Antonius would pay.

“And I would like to cordially invite you to join our party. We would love to hear another song.” She indicated the trio of hatacular young women.

“Don’t be long!” she told him, stepping aside to let someone else reach the counter, and beginning to weave her way back to her table.

“Oh- but you must wear a hat,” she called back, exaggeratedly indicating her own, in case anyone in the Crown had managed to miss it. She returned to her friends.

Igrainne sat down, feeling quite pleased with her idea.

“Where are the drinks?” asked Gretchyn.

“They’ll be delivered shortly. I got you something special,” she beamed at her sister. Igrainne could be fun, too!
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Old December 31, 2016, 02:19 PM   #5 (permalink)
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They are scared. We are just tooooo much fun!

Millinery? Antonius had never heard of such a thing. The woman had indicated it was a dark art, and yet she spoke so brazenly about it. What sort of power did millinery contain that one should speak it's name in public without fear of being sent to the gaol? He was intrigued. He made a mental note to ask someone what it meant. Maybe it was something that he would do with his time. He had never actually finished any sort of training other than sword fighting. The man did not have the patience for it. Maybe this millinery would finally be the one thing that kept his attention long enough to complete.

He smiled when the woman did. He could not see much of her face, but her delicate shin indicated that she had a beautiful smile. "Oh that..." he started when she spoke of his singing. "It's just an old trick to get people together really." The last few words of his sentence drifted off into space as it was apparent the woman was not listening anyway.

He could do nothing but watch with his jaw slightly ajar. Four drinks? Well, who was he to deny a lady anything? Especially after he had offered. He forwardness was refreshing. It must have been that millinery training. He really must see someone about that.

Silently, and still in a small state of shock, he handed over the payment for the drinks. She didn't even take them with her. She just walked away, giving him dress code instructions, and implying an order to him that he should deliver their drinks. His mouth still had not closed. All he could do was search the room for a hat. He had a hat... at home in Jaedaxia. It was a good hat too. But that did not help him at all this time. Luckily there was another patron at the bar with a hat. It was not nearly as fancy as the ones that were at the table full of women. This cover was a simple farmer's hat. It was the sort made of wool with a large bill. It was brown and faded. It was also too big for Antonius' head. Which made sense because the person he borrowed it from was a dracon. But it was a hat.

Like a puppet on a string, Antonius did the woman's bidding. He carried the five drinks carefully. He did not have a tray like the serving wenches, so he had to move especially slow. But he did eventually make it to the table of giggling girls. He set them down and took a seat. He had been invited after all. There should have been no reason to wait for a second invitation.

With a friendly smile that reached to his eyes, he spoke, "Serale madamoiselles! What brings such fine ladies to the Crown this brightening?"
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Old January 2, 2017, 10:53 AM   #6 (permalink)
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Igrainne could scarcely believe that she’d ordered around a total stranger with frivolous demands and it worked. Old Boothby would not have approved of his lessons being put to use in this way, but it was perhaps the closest the young woman had ever come to behaving like a born noble.

The three girls stopped talking and stared as Antonius took a seat. Igrainne shook with silent laughter at their expressions. The girl with the auburn curls recovered first, pushing up the brim of her oversized pink rose hat to answer Antonius.

“It’s Natash’s birthday!” cried Gretchyn.

“That’s Gretchyn,” said Kerrin.

“And she’s Kerrin,” said Igrainne.

“And you already know my sister,” said Natash.

“Nice hat,” said Igrainne, her drink disappearing underneath the netting of the veil.

“Wait, who are you?” asked Gretchyn.
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Old January 3, 2017, 08:11 AM   #7 (permalink)
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His head started to spin as a flurry of introductions were made. Anton tried to follow as best he could and memorize names with faces. He wasn't sure if he had completed the task. There was one name missing though. Maybe it had been mentioned. Truth be told, the women spoke so quickly that he wasn't sure. It would have been rude to ask again, so he let the thought fade into the wind and hoped that someone would use her name later. Actually, he hoped they would all use their names repeatedly. Learning four names in the space of three seconds was impossible.

He managed a weak smile and shrug at the mention of his hat. His finger pushed it up on his head only to have the thing slide back down. "Me?" he pointed to himself, "I'm Antonius." He sat a little straighter in his chair.

He still did not see the correlation between the hats and the birthday party. He was still under the impression that fashion things were at work here. He only hoped that his massive hat was good enough.

"A very happy birthday to you Mademoiselle Natash," he extended his hand for her to put in his so he could gently kiss it.
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Old January 5, 2017, 12:13 AM   #8 (permalink)
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A creak echoed from the door as it slowly swung open. A black-skinned lithe hand followed it as it swung. The figure that followed was dressed in a blue tunic with a loose white shirt beneath. White designs danced along the sleeves and edges of his attire. The pattern formed an endless maze across his clothing. His skin a dark reflection of the ethereal beauty of elven kind smooth and flawless. Playful crimson eyes skimmed the room beneath his long white hair. A charming smile crossed his ash-hued lips.

He walked confidently towards the bar. A lighter blue cloak followed his steps. The tavern lights glimmered briefly on the leather whip bound to his hip by a bit of purple string. A few soft whispers as he ordered his drink. A glass was brought out and filled with a dark red liquor. He took a taste as he surveyed the room. He admired the surface races at times to construct such a fine establishment.

Ceva noted the usual fare of patrons. He had not been to this particular tavern before. To high blooded for his taste. He preferred evenings spent with the seedier side of the Crown. Time to time it was a welcome change of pace to expand his horizons. He had to slightly nudge the actors and actresses of the play from time to time. It was at this moment he noticed three girls and an older gentlemen conversing. He assumed the man was older, it was hard to tell at times with humans.

The dark elf shot the young women a playful wink. He doubted they would notice. They seemed busy in the conversation. They didn't seem familiar, perhaps they were simply friends. Surface relationships were always an enigma. Ceva decided to simply observe the tavern for the moment as he took another drink of his wine. It was a curious start.
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Old January 5, 2017, 03:08 AM   #9 (permalink)
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Granted, she had been sitting at the table next to the gaggle of women for a while now. Honestly, she probably looked outwardly like someone you wouldn't want to be near. Her old black cloak fell behind her as she sat, hood down and with holes and rips in it. She didn't mind it all that much, for she didn't wear it for looks. Leather armor covered her underneath, the faded brown a shock against her ghostly pale complexion. Short hair, white with the barest hint of blonde framed a face that had the seeds of ravishing beauty, if it's owner put the barest hint of effort into her appearance. Pointed ears split into two points. The hallmark of an Esh'lahier. Her sword belt held a sheathed blade, accompanied by simple black brown pants, and black boots. Brown gloves covered her hands, gripping a mug of ale as she scanned the room.

She had come to prime in an interest of finding out more of the academy of magic. However there was nothing wrong with taking a night to simply enjoy herself. As the man sang his song, she couldn't help but begin to hum one of her own. Something that she had heard a while ago. So lost in the memory, It was to the point that she began to accidentally sing it louder when the girls welcomed the man to their table.

"I am a sailor, you're my first mate
We signed on together, we coupled our fate
Hauled up our anchor, we will not fail
For the hearts treasure, together we sail."

"Together we're in this relationship
We built it with care to last the whole trip
Our true destination's not marked on the charts
We're navigating the shores of the heart."

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Old January 5, 2017, 04:50 PM   #10 (permalink)
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There was a reason Adyn did not normally frequent the Crown, despite having lived in Prime for eras. Even when one wanted to drink alone, it was difficult to truly be alone in a place as packed as this. Bodies clamored to pass one another, the intoxicated shouted, and worse, everyone wanted to sing. The boisterous and the bountiful characterized the crown, and they brought with them a chaos that sent his mind a-clamor.

Tonight, though... tonight had been a different one. His mind felt somehow untouchable by the madness in the Crown, his mood elevated by the better liquor its bar offered. It didn't hurt that, recently arrived back "home" from Port Alyx, the rogue had been in unusual spirits. He had seen his sister, after all - dead no less - but he had seen her, and spoken to her, and grieved. Such was beyond what he had allowed himself before, and it was as if a weight had been shrugged off his shoulders.

So there he was, swimming through a sea of shouting, sweaty patrons and feeling not a whit put out by it. Empty tables were not to be had tonight, it seemed, but even that didn't seem to annoy him. He felt calm, comfortable... relaxed. It was almost surreal, but so incredibly welcome.

It was hard not to notice the woman in vibrant blue, as well as her party of hats. The stark juxtaposition of her garb against the landscape made her an instant beacon in a sea of drab. He couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the peacock of a table, but even more so at the confused expression of the male somewhere between. His sister would have gravitated towards this sight, he knew, and for that he couldn't help but stop.

As such the group would find a human man standing over them, a cigarette between his lips trailing a faint and strange blue smoke. He was dressed a step above the more rag-tag patrons of the tavern, but his garb was of a more practical nature (and surely of a darker one as well) than that of the birthday gaggle.

"Seems the tavern's full tonight. Mind if I join the celebrations?"

He wouldn't mind if they refused him, and would merely move on in search of another table. If they offered him a seat he'd be sure to plant himself there, on the side nearest the woman who had just begun singing a song.

His eyes flickered for a moment towards the Esh'lahier in ragged black. He had caught some words about ships and hearts, at least, somewhere amidst the din of the patrons.

He removed the cigarette from his lips and exhaled the blue smoke, similar-colored eyes giving the Esh'lahier a look of acknowledgement. It was not the singing that had caught his attention so much as the fact that he had not seen her kind in many eras.

"A romantic?" he queried with the quirk of a brow, clearly finding the notion unexpected. His surprise might have seemed a result of her race, although it was hard to tell given the casual nature with which he voiced it.

oocSorry for jumping around between the tables, but just figured I'd try to include Vireylda somehow
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Old January 5, 2017, 11:08 PM   #11 (permalink)
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Arssia Khallig always made it a point to stop by the Crown whenever she could, when she was in Prime for work or business or just because she needed to escape Vortex for a little while. Something about the place - the heavy doors, the bustling folks about, the dancing lights and glorious windows, the roaring fire behind her back, the barstool and the drinks - sang to Arry. It symbolized the sort of normality, comfort, prosperity that Arry craved but never had. It let her pretend, for a little while, that she was calm and at peace and her mind wasn't racing into the future to plan for the next job, the next rumor, her next meal.

She was getting comfortable when men around her had began singing, and there was a particularly loud one who could not carry a tune. His voice creaked like a loud rusty saw.

"Ahh," she moaned, drinking deep from her third tankard of ale. "Another," she yelled at the barkeep, feeling the light buzz settling around her brows. Anything to keep that voice out of her ears. She came to Prime as an escort for a caravan, and the coin was decent enough that she could splurge a little on an extra drink or two.

Moments later, another tankard pushed its way into her hands, replacing a recently emptied one. The rusty off-tune voice still rang in her ear. That's it, Arry decided, and pushed herself off the stool. She wobbled her way around the crowd, pushing and being pushed, until she was somehow guided towards a mostly empty table occupied only by one.

Dark elf, some part of her mind supplied. That part must still be sober. Arry plunked down her drink and took a sit without invitation.

"Drinking alone?"
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Old January 6, 2017, 11:34 PM   #12 (permalink)
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Igrainne Birch is a glorious SuperheroIgrainne Birch is a glorious SuperheroIgrainne Birch is a glorious SuperheroIgrainne Birch is a glorious SuperheroIgrainne Birch is a glorious SuperheroIgrainne Birch is a glorious SuperheroIgrainne Birch is a glorious SuperheroIgrainne Birch is a glorious Superhero


“Antonius has come to sing for you,” Igrainne announced, possibly to the surprise of the singer himself.

“And… dance?” she suggested, seeing just how far she could push this.

Natash leaned forward from across the table and giggled as Antonius kissed her hand. She was a pretty girl, all large, dark eyes and easy smile. She wore a yellow dress in the latest fashion and her hat was a golden crown- false, of course, and not at all the real thing, but amusing to her.

Meanwhile, Gretchyn found herself staring at a vysstichi, an actual vysstichi. It winked at her. She let out a startled noise, looked away, and decided to pretend that it hadn’t happened.

Please sing! Please,” Gretchyn begged, suddenly a passionate patron of tavern music. She looked again. The vysstichi was still real. “Gods,” she whispered, and nervously drained half her cup.

As Gretchyn put down her glass, Kerrin’s poor face hit the table once more, which distracted Gretchyn from fretting about vysstichi men and Igrainne from fretting about literally all men to ever come into contact with her sister, ever. Natash carried on boldly flirting with Antonius while the other two tended to their friend, sitting her back into her chair and counseling her about the good wisdom of Pacing Oneself.

When the lone figure at the next table began to sing, it was Kerrin who inexplicably knew every word. The petite blonde revived from her stupor to belt out the last verse, more or less in tune with the esh’lahier woman. She rose from her chair, both alarmed friends ready to catch her, and managed to secure her footing by looping her arm through Vireylda’s.

“I love that song,” Kerrin declared when they were finished. “And I love.” She swayed a bit. “Your hair. I should cut my hair. What’do’ya think? Shoulda cut my hair like ‘at?”

Igrainne laughed. When she forgot to attempt to be in charge of everything, she actually enjoyed herself. Her sister’s friends were absolutely ridiculous, but harmlessly so, and when was the last time she’d been around a group of people so determined to have a good time? She exchanged her empty cup for the full one that Kerrin didn’t need.

When Adynirach approached, Natash and Gretchyn both sat up straighter, and Igrainne was glad for the stupid veil, as turning her head too quickly to see who’d spoken had made her feel light headed and flushed.

“There’s a seat right here,” Gretchyn was quick to offer, waving Adynirach to the seat only briefly abandoned by Kerrin. Kerrin didn’t seem to notice. “We’re celebrating a birthday!”

This set off another round of confusing introductions.

“Oh, oh, oh! It’s Natash… ‘s birthday!” Kerrin told her new best friend, Vireylda. “And that’s her.”

“I’m Natash,” beamed Natash, pleased with how all of this was going.

“And she’s Natash,” agreed Kerrin again, although she felt like she was forgetting something important.

“I’m Gretchyn,” Gretchyn told Adynirach.

“And this is Antonius, a famous singer from Jaedaxia,” supplied Igrainne. “He was just about to si-”

“HATS!” shouted Kerrin, having remembered the important thing. “Issa hat party. Y’needa hat,” she helpfully slurred.

oocSo glad you're here, too, Ceva and Arry! I didn't want to force you to the table. :) Everyone, I'm away until the 10th. Enjoy the party and I'll post again when I'm back! haha
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Old January 7, 2017, 12:13 AM   #13 (permalink)
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Antonius Verilius is a glorious SuperheroAntonius Verilius is a glorious SuperheroAntonius Verilius is a glorious Superhero
So he was supposed to dance now? That was not something Antonius was comfortable with. He was strictly a bar baritone. He chose to ignore the request. If other members of the choir wanted to participate, that was on their own consciences.

He smiled as other people joined their motley crew. It was always fun to meet new people.

He stood. The fruit of the vine coursed through his veins long enough to remove any inhibitions. "My name is Antonius Verilius Leonardes and I declare this a brightening to remember!" With his declaration, he clinked glasses with anyone who would dare be associated with an inebriated pseudo-noble.

He took his chair again and smiled to the people already surrounding him. "Each one of needs a hat! Grab them from somewhere! Use your shirt, I don't give a feth! Let us play a game!"

oocIgrainne and I agree, we are bringing fun Prime back again! Don't wait for us respond. If someone says something you want to respond to, do it straight away! No posting order! No post length! Maybe even bunny a little bit! See what we can all come up with! Let's just have fun in the debauchery of the tavern!
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Old January 7, 2017, 12:43 AM   #14 (permalink)
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Séamus Stormfist is an upstanding Citizen
Business was going great, with so many requests and orders streaming in, Séamus' wealth was only going ever upward. However, he could not stay cooped in his own house for so long. Aelyria Prime perhaps lacked a sizeable dwarven population, but perhaps if he was lucky he would find himself a place where he'd be able to have some good ol' fun like he had in his young brightenings, the ones in which he traveled all of telath just to see the world and meet new people of all kinds and kin.

In his search, wandering through the streets of the city he had started to call his second home, he found himself standing outside a single inn. Séamus' gaze went to the windows, he noticed the rather crowded hall at the ground floor, he could hear the laughter and the cheering inside.

A shiver went through him, as he realized standing still in the cold open space of the street was possibly not the best thing to do in the middle of the winter season.

A few deep breaths, a moment to get himself his pipe and tobacco to grant him the taste of smoke in his mouth. A few puffs left his lips before he moved to the door, grabbed the handle and opened it, only to be nearly overwhelmed by the ambiance... only nearly though. A deep breath, his arm raising his pipe as high as he could, his vocal chords readying themselves for his massive timbre as a dwarf to come into play and his lungs steeling themselves for what was coming.

"Break a few cascets of ale, stout and mead!!" The dwarf shouted happily towards the innkeeper. "A round on me for all who wish to drink!!"
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Old January 7, 2017, 01:20 AM   #15 (permalink)
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Moranor Andares is a benevolent AdventurerMoranor Andares is a benevolent Adventurer


The Esh'lahier in the doorway winced as the dwarven bellow rang out through the tavern. He appreciated the sentiment, but the volume less so. I knew there was a reason I don't normally frequent these. But it was cold out, he was travelling, and quite frankly it sounded as though there was considerable joviality going on inside. So he'd figured why not?

"A pint of cider." He asked the bar-keep once he reached the scarred, hard-wood bar through the crowds. The man doing the asking was dressed all in smoke grey, his cloak thrown back to reveal a tunic and trews of the same, the latter disappearing into sensible travelling boots. A broad belt supported a slender sword that was mostly screen by the folds of the cloak; not hidden but not boasted of.

The cowl of the cloak was back, revealing a deathly pale face with sharp, ascetic features, high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. Handsome in a severe sort of way. Silver hair was tied back in a high tail and his ears bore tiny amethyst studs in their secondary points. A man who was not only Esh'lahier, but proud of it.

Turning, tankard in hand, he idly saluted the overly loud dwarf for his generosity, and scanned the crowds. There was some singing going on, quite pleasant actually, but no faces he recognised. No... there was one. Waiting for her gaze to drift his way, Moranor gave a nod and raised his tankard in Vireylda's direction. She might or might not want company.
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