The Tavern

[Vanitypirate]

"Well, that's all too vague a question, I'd say!" Tilly leaned against the bar counter, bracing her elbow up against it to prop herself up, nodding in some quiet agreement to Tazia. She gave an easy, nonchalant smile while her mind internally worked to decide on a story suitable for a stranger, but intriguing enough for a friend: nothing too unpleasant, nothing too saccharine...

For once, she thanked the Stars above that she had a profession more polite to speak about than digging up corpses.

"I earn my bread by jumping into dark, scary holes and killing creeps like demons and scale-tail queens. As it turns out, people here pay a pretty penny to get you to do that-- hence my staying here." She finished, but her gaze drifted expectantly to Tazia.

"I'd go into detail if I weren't so curious as to what your story is, miss!"

[black379]

Jeanne's excitement returned, replacing the anxiety he held about Duval, and about Griswold's sanctioning of such heedless carousing. He spared the leper a look, almost an apology, then snaked his arms around Winifred's midsection, holding her from behind.

"Lead on." The boy encouraged Duval from over Wynne's shoulder, peering down the hallway. He had no place of his own after all, so it made little difference in whose room he did end up.

-

"I shall partake as well." The metal mask breathed. Griswold's arms were crossed as he reached the top of the stairs.

[hopper]

Winnifred moved so she stoop on the top floor, though still with Jeanne wrapped snugly around her. Leaning back into his embrace slightly she turned her head so her cheek brushed against the side of his nose and smiled fondly at him, reaching up to hold his hands for a second before returning her attention to Duval.
“Go on ahead, we’ll meet you at our room which is the…”
She cocked her head, peering at the dozen or so doors that lined the hallway, like guards each defending their own little world, a world of old sheets and creaky floorboards and clapping window shutters. She was lost in the thought until she abruptly remembered what she was supposed to be looking for.
“That one!”
She pointed towards a door further down the hall, which appeared basically the same to all the others.

“You can go grab everything and meet us there yea?”
She looked expectantly towards Duval, her large eyes sitting on him in the low light of the hall, whose sole window sat at far wall and the very end of the hall and from which one could detect a faint late-winter breeze stirring behind the shutter. Anticipation built rapidly in her belly, this was the sort of fun she hadn't had in...she swallowed.
Too long
She finished mentally, her bearing becoming momentarily morose. When Griswold at last spoke, she jumped having forgotten he was there briefly, and gave him a wide, blinking look.
“Well, alright if you want to. I’d say it’s about time you lightened up a little.”
She chortled at the man’s stern-faced metal facade.

[Outisakanobody]

"Oh I won't try to make myself out to be something I'm not. I am but a simple minstrel, singing and playing for coin. I don't have the heart or stomach for violence." Tazia says, sitting herself on the dog owners table, looking up at the ceiling kicking her legs idly.

[porkylabrador]

"Hm." Stafford was happy to recline more into his booth lazily and eye Tazia with more of an air of interest. He'd rather pass the conversation away from his life if he could. "Not trying to make yourself out to be something you're not is something I can respect... but that's all well and good coming from someone bedecked in an Italian mask. No?" He chuckled to himself, not unkindly thinking he had a fair point.

"Perhaps it's a little closed-minded of me to adhere to the age old rule of 'seeing is believing'..." The fellow's attention shifted back to Tilly. "I don't pay too much attention to rumours surrounding mythological beasts and creepy-crawlies, in my experience they're a way for mortified individuals to comprehend the evils of men-proper." He couldn't help but shrug a little at his own words. "That being said, I'm not the local am I? Who would I be to contest the local exterminator?"

[Vanitypirate]

"Well, that's dandy; violence is overrated..." Tilly hummed, drumming her fingers along the bar counter, feeling a touch out of place...
But she supposed that was lucky for these two to not know the depths.

"If seeing's believing, I do hope you never believe. Whatever Mankind can cook up will never compare to what's down in the murk." One drumming hand parted from the table, if only to resume its fidgeting at her coat lapel, which she smoothed out between her thumb and finger. She gave a little smile,

"In which case, we need actors and artists more than ever, don't we?"

[Outisakanobody]

"I wouldn't expect a dog catcher to have much of an eye for fashion, nor the sensibuilities of a performer. The more you stand out, the more you get noticed, and the more you get paid. That simple, really." Tazia says to Stafford, sending a wink his way. She took a moment to look Tilly over, studying and observing her. "You don't strike me as a monster hunter. Awfully indelicate work for such a rail-thin thing as yourself." she says.

[porkylabrador]

Tilly's comment made Stafford smile, Tazia's comment made him frown and so his face was caught in subtle momentary fluctuations. "Artists in demand?! Perish the thought!" The fellow jokingly made a crucifix with his index fingers, still brandishing a lit cigarette as if to ward off the encroaching-not-real-vampiric-fandom.

"But I suppose I could enjoy the idea of a doodle or two being a tonic against the bloodshed, there's all too much of it here, there and everywhere... eh, girl?" Victoria grumbled sleepily through her boxed and scarred face as her human poked her with the tip of his foot gently.

His frown returned in full force as Tazia winked at him, clearly on some level something she had said had struck some internal sensibility that he was too polite to vocalise. He snorted quietly to himself.

"I might agree with Mask here, Tilly the Exterminator... save for the fact I have no notion of what a so-called 'monster hunter' might look like. For all my sins, yours isn't a circle I've encountered much, for all I know you might well be the pinnacle of monster hunting." He grinned, the crown in his front teeth, hissing a line of tobacco smoke into the air.

[Vanitypirate]

"I'm... tougher than I look, really." Tilly chuckled and gave a glance to the window. It was getting a touch late. Her smile wavered.
A brief thought of Celeste, down in the dark. She hoped she was alright; Alphonse would be right on his way.
Ultimately, the thought was unhelpful, so she made another conscious effort to put it away.

She shrugged, "Brute force doesn't really help much, thankfully, and being smaller means there's less of you to get skewered," then lightly poked a finger into the empty air in front of her, as though to pantomime an offending weapon.

"But there is a rather severe drought of any interesting entertainment here, thankfully for you lot! You might be just the bitty ray of sunshine this town needs."

[Outisakanobody]

"I dunno. There seem to be a few colorful types wandering about, sad to say. Too many clowns grate on the nerves, I've always found." Tazia says dismissively, purposefully being vague about who in particular she might be referring too.

"My barbs did not sting you too deeply, I hope. They were all in jest, after all." she says to Stafford as she sees his expression sour. She wasn't that upset, but didn't want to alienate anyone so early after meeting them.

"I wonder if you've both shared names already and I missed out, or if we're still operating as anonymous strangers?" she asked, not really enjoying being referred to as "Mask" by the dog owner.

[porkylabrador]

"There's that." Stafford nodded with a degree of knowledge. "I've not found myself in a situation where quick feet and a... shall we say 'unsportsmanlike' kick are trumped by a great oafs flailing." He found himself dwell on different times and drummed the leather of the cosh that hung from his waist. "Still, a puppet show might be more entertaining than a broken nose or jaw." He chuckled.

"Not at all." The Houndmaster held up his hand as if to signal for a recess, a warm smile spread across his face and a twinkle entered his eyes as he directed the expression to Tazia. "I hadn't realised there were barbs at all." The phrasing was entirely innocent.

"Stafford." He said pointing to himself. "Vicky." He said pointing to his pooch.

[Vanitypirate]

"And you can call me Tilly." She cocked a thumb at herself, hooking a bootheel on the rung of the bar stool she sat on.
Tazia was certainly right about clowns-- though, even just one clown was one too many, with few exceptions...

"...Hmm, and maybe not a clown so much. S'frightfully noisy. A mime, maybe? An actress?" She proposed as she shrugged her bony shoulders,

"Dunno if there's a theater around here. You could probably build it yourself if you found the coin."

[Outisakanobody]

"Well you all can call me Tazia." the girl says, rising to take a dramatic bow, then plopping her rear back down on the table. "I find mimes rather off putting as well, to be honest. Really anyone who can't pick up an instrument and comport themselves with an air of dignity shouldn't dare call themselves an entertainer, lest they give the rest of us a bad name." Tazia says, her passions on the subject having been roused for the moment. "Perhaps if I had a private audience with the heir I could get the funds. Or even, private donations might do the trick..." she continues, casting a meaningful look at Tilly and holding it, waiting for a response.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis enters from Misc. Buildings/
/Lekalis/
The afterglow of the events of the Harbor seemed to linger as much as the seasalt on his shoulders. If he didn't know any better, he'd wager that he stunk like a sailor. Thankfully, a tasteful padding of perfumes helped muffle the aura to something more tasteful.

His arrival, however, was one born from some practiced intrigue; he arrived more from an alleyway entrance than the forward one. Despite it being closer, he figured with the presence of some keystone notes, that it was better safe than sorry. Particularly considering the potential for practical necromancy held within his satchel.
The thought alone brought an unnerving excitement in his bones. He knew the deed was wrong, vile and atrocious yet... It paled in comparison to the things he'd done in the past.

Regardless, as his sights settled on Tilly, he sighed; she seemed rather gleefully yapping with comrades who seemed more apt to fancy such delicacies. Truly, a rare find, he knew as he slipped past a few patrons. A fair gradient of men and women in the throes of lust, gave way to the men and women in the throes of inebriation and spirits.
"Tilly!" He called out, as he neared; raising a hand as he slowed and leant his posterior onto an empty table. Giving her some space and time to break away from the conversation at her whimsey...
\\

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly gave a little smile and rose a hand,
"My, not all entertainment has to be musical! That's a fair high bar."

Though, at the implication of private donations-- 'donations' being the fatally key word-- Tilly found herself noncommittally smiling and nodding, but looking elsewhere.
Her eyes passed over a familiar red-cloaked fellow, and her expression split into a wider grin, eyes alight.

"Ah, well-- that's my expedition partner, there. I've gotta get going." She near sprang off the barstool, backpedaling, as she tipped her hat gleefully to the lot, thumbing at the satchel on her shoulder.
"Miss Tazia, Sir Stafford, I hope to see you around!"


There was a spring in her stride as she trotted on over to Lekalis, though in the most public of locales she refrained from hugging or kissing on the man as she would have liked to do.
Eventually, though...

"You're back!"