The Hamlet Streets

[Kidney]

Her words fell on thoughtful ears, and Hugo understood. With a flourish, he took his pick away to the depths of his glove, and placed the lute back onto his back. He readjusted it slightly, a giggle escaping him as the neck brushed up against his. 

"I'm waiting for someone too y'know. Hence why I was waiting behind that gypsy's wagon for so long."

He spoke with sincerity, although the words may have been coated in silvery cleanliness should Courcy feel suspicious and think about them for too long. Hugo seemed nice, although the rhythmic ringing as he tapped one foot to an unknown beat. The song began to build, before another chuckle left him and he stopped himself. "Heh! Whoops."

He turned to leave, taking some steps backwards, shooting her a happy look before attaching the light blue happy porcelain to his mug. "Name's Hugo! I hang around the Tavern. If you ever feel like being serenaded while sitting on a statue again, a barstool should suffice!"

He slowly made his way over to the giant hovering over by the bounty board, taking note of the contract, reading stealthily over Roard's shoulder, pointing physically at him, showing off a pantomime warning of his smell before sneaking back over by the wagon, taking cover behind it, once again skulking in the dark.

With a single yelp of a laugh, Hugo waved to Courcy once again and stomped back over to the Tavern, shouldering in and pulling his Lute back out to play some more for the happy masses.

[black379]

Courcy watched the musician go, and then pass by again in the other direction. She sank to sit at the base of the statue, though the center of town may not have been the ideal place to rest after all. Regardless the ginger held her weapon across her lap and allowed her eyes to close.

[relentless]

Villon grumbled, and shook his head, taking his cane and putting it infront of her right leg from where she sat.
"Pah, like bloody hell you will. Taas's tired n all that, hell, even you more so! No need to go prance into the wolfs den... literally!"
Villon chuckled at that last part, before tapping her lightly on the calf with his cane, beginning to limp off to the direction of the heirs manor before he paused, and turned around.

"Get rest ya numpty, this issue isn't going anyway as long as we keep our mouths shut."
Villon advised, though it seemed more like a stern order than anything, turning around and taking another few steps away before he stopped again, but didn't turn around this time.
"...Please?"
He said, and without another word he was off to talk through the recent details of what happened out there with the heir.

[azmoham]

“...I've been a wild rover for many's the year
I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer
But now I'm returning with gold in great store
And I never will play the wild rover no mooooooooore!”
An old man belted out, a dog resting at his feet stared up at her master, cocking her dark head as if asking a question. The man chuckled and stooped over, scratching the loyal beast’s head with his old fingers.
“Ahh tis nothin Rudy, just an old man playing the fool is all.”
He sighed, a rueful smile on his face as he reclined back into his rough seat. The wagon jostled along at a comfortable amble, rumbling slowly down the stony path. He didn’t mind the pace nor the jolt they received every time the wagon hit a pothole or a large stone, it was all part of the journey after all. If he’d wanted to stay nice and comfortable and clean, he would’ve just stayed in the city with all the other dying old men. At least out here he could still delude himself into thinking he could get something done. He pursed his lips and sighed again, this time with a distinctly more melancholic tone; sensing this Rudy put her head on his lap and at her gently prodding, he moved his aged fingers to pat her head once more.
“Ya silly old beast.”
He mumbled, moving his attention to the view shuddering past the window. Murky woods with gnarled bark and branches that twisted out over the road like grasping fingers. He grimaced slightly and looked away. There was good reason he’d kept to the urban life for so long now, nature seemed to impose her terrible antiquity on everything in her domain, even the trees felt as they were judging him scornfully as the wagon made its sluggish way towards the town. They had said the road was bad, that bag things lived around it and you were as likely as not to run into bandits or some such, so far the trip had proved almost disappointingly uneventful. He was torn, on the one hand he was glad for the quiet, the easier the trip went the less he’d have to worry about before he even got there. But on the other hand. He’d been promised things: monsters and demons and magic and money, so much gold that you had to wear two belts just to hold up your pockets-full of coins. And here, it was turning out exactly like any other carriage ride to a sleepy town in the middle of nowhere, that is to say, very dull. He ‘humph’ed and sunk a little lower in his seat, crossing his arms and resolving himself to a nap.

[Boo Ghostie]

Before truly departing to the tavern, Flynn looked back to Roard as he browsed the bounty board. A pang of guilt had began to wrack his mind, adding on to his ever growing burden of woes. He let out a drawn out sigh as he made a face-heel turn back to the leper. As he approached he had noticed that the towering man had found a contract. Finally, something to actually occupy his mind. Danger and the prospect of murder was clearly the best coping mechanism!

"'Oi, seems like ye' found yer'self a contract!" Flynn hollered out as he waved at the leper. "Ye' don't mind if I tag along? 'Ell maybe I'll nab a friend so we can get ta' trekkin' out sooner!"

[Kidney]

A voice, the return of a possible friend. Perhaps this one wished to try.

Roard turned, sword held up, hand extended in a wave again. He smiled, wide and horrific, but genuine. His eyes grew softer than before, and with a great yelp of a laugh he nodded, "Aye, There is merit in this one, I'd love to find a friend of yours if you wish. I frankly, though, should probably be kept mostly secret. I'm very bad at keeping people comfortable."

He shrugged, a loud maneuver, although serious in a way.

[Boo Ghostie]

"Damn straight," Flynn said in a much more cheerful tone, "Lad should be in the abbey, though 'ehm... No offense but I'd get some more bloody wraps. I mean I'm use ta' yer' ilk but if we're ta' make some good impressions. Ya' best not 'ave 'em see 'at yer' a soggy fookin' pound-cake. Maybe poke holes in a burlap sack or summin'. Aye?"

As mentioned, the bounty hunter turned to face the abbey. Beginning his march to reunite with his comrade in arms. However he would also find that Roard has not begun following behind him. He looked back over, "'Ye comin'?"

[Kidney]

A walk. Another friend. A holy man.

Roard slowly nodded, sighing at his own dirtiness before slowly moving forward, standing side-by-side with him. He walked with him for a good few moments before he shifted his sword and spoke, "Should I maybe get a burlap sack mask? Maybe cover up the face-holes?"

He blinked, and if he would be perceptive, he could see the black drippings, like a dog, finding their way down his face. But not crying, simply horrible body-horror.

[Boo Ghostie]

Flynn nodded in accordance, seeing that he would rather have this man presentable in a place of worship. "'Ye don't want some blokes ta' run away again, don't ye'? Aye, jus' go fetch a mask before ye' fall apart n' shite. I'll meet ye' at the entrance."

With that he began to climb the steps leading towards the abbey. Who knows, maybe he would meet others who could help ease his mind through conversation and distraction. With each step he stared up at the looming chapel. Being reminded with only fond memories of his home city. Oh how did he arrive to this damnable hamlet?

[Kidney]

A purpose. And a heavy heart.

Roard nodded, understandingly. "Hmm, I will attempt."

He let Flynn go, turning away, finding a rock to sit upon. He let the blade down, the weight of the thing pushing the end into the soil as he dropped it off his back. He then brought forward his bag, fumbling inside before pulling out a thick roll of bandages, dry, and clean. He sighed. 

"No good bandages left after this."

He slowly began to bring them away from the roll, and with a grunt, Roard slapped the bandage end onto his face. It stuck, although horribly, against the holed cheek of Roard, and with a few moments passing, he began to wrap the bandages around his face. Sadly, Roard had to take off his hood, revealing the back of his head as well as his neck and shoulders, which appeared to be entirely made of the strange black, spongy flesh that patched his body.

He wrapped for a little while, eventually ripping the bandage to a stop, successfully covering the bottom half of his face, stopping at the nose slits, but covering the grossest parts of his face. 

Although, the hyphema in his left eye remained, the fluid in the eye sloshing with his rapid wrappage.

[azmoham]

‘Wham! Wham!’
“Weeee’re heeeeeere!”
The driver cackled, slamming his hand once more against the side of the carriage to awaken its sleeping occupant. Trent opened a single eye and slowly began to gather his things and make to leave the wagon. A minute or so later, his boots hit the mud and he gave the driver a companionable wave before taking a step or two towards the center of town, his wrinkled eyes scanning for what his first stop should be. As it was, he saw no inn, save a rather battered looking tavern that huddled in the corner of the square, a bedraggled peasant entering or leaving by its single creaky door. Tempting as the idea of a strong drink was at present, he had a mind to poke around, get a better feeling for the streets that he would be calling home likely for the rest of his short life. So, choosing an avenue at random, he took up a jaunty whistle and set off, Rudy trotting along beside. It was a town that had clearly seen better, and worse, days. The common theme was that of decay, even the best buildings among the lot having missing shingles and boarded-up windows, and many sporting large holes in the roof where the light streamed in. The men and women eyed him with something like fear, or otherwise their grimy faces were set in looks of baleful acceptance, as if having come to terms with their place but by no means pleased about it. But, it was rare to find the town that welcomed another lawman, even one as old as himself, so he thought little of their dower glances.
[Trent enters Misc. Buildings]

[The Carrying Blade]

“I hold no promises, if I see her I will talk with her, but....rest would be preferable.” She spoke shortly, watching the old man walk away, right towards the Heir’s which caused her to let out a small growl of anger, to think he thought himself more able to talk with him than she was. She waited till he was gone, out of sight, before slowly getting up from the bench, her face filled with pain and discomfort as she forced her body to move again. Now with solid breathing back, she made her way towards the Tavern, obviously worse for wear and needing help walking if a soul was kind enough to try and help her.

[Vanitypirate]

Mar 27, 2018 18:54:15 GMT -8 Bloodtrailkiller said:

/Lekalis/

"I'm much better at the delivery though aren't I? Surely you're utterly entranced, sworn to answer by the grace of my tongue!" He replied in utter dismay, looking to her in utter shock as she waggled her finger.
Lekalis quickly latched his free hand around it and kissed the tip of her digit.

"Or... does the grace of my tongue only entrance you down there" He mused sadly, pouting before swiftly smirking as the dirt began to collect into cobblestones before them, and trees became buildings. Leafy canopies, shingles and chimneys...
\Lekalis and Tilly head to the Hamlet Streets?\

---

Tilly's eyes widened with utmost concern as they returned back to the Hamlet, out of fear that one might hear their entirely unplatonic conversation.
She very slightly, so as to not injure her Betrothed, put more force in the finger to poke at the bulb of Lekalis's nose with the pad of her finger.

"Pipe it." She shushed, before leaning in to plant a brief kiss on his cheek. A small distraction so that she might hurry him ahead,

"We still ought to talk to the Heir; best get on it before the sun goes down."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

With a small squawk, he recoiled and covered his nose with the hand he'd used to hold Tilly's finger. Relinquishing his menial grip to tend to his clearly devastated nose as he pouted and then rolled his eyes away at her prudishness, though he only leant closer to her and whispered quietly,
"But earnestly... I'm curious Tilly!" He insisted with dire urgency, cocking his head back and to the side as they plodded along through the yard towards the Heir's manor.

"And your dodginess is starting to make me worry." He huffed, skewing his gaze at last and leaning away from Tilly; mostly to give her some breathing room as they strode on...

\\

[Vanitypirate]

"There's no need to worry." Tilly assured, with a hand raised flatly, as though to settle any unrest.
She walked on to the Manor. With her hands free, they both defaulted to their comfortable spaces in her coatpockets.

Admitting quietly, shoulders scrunched, she added softly and simply,

"I find you very handsome."