The Darkest Sleepover

[🐴Can🗡️]

Just when Ariel thought he had slipped by without getting noticed, he saw that the duo started walking in the same direction as him. If only it wasn't as dark... At least he could see their intentions from their faces that way. But alas, it was the middle of the night and the streets were bereft of lights.

Turning back would be a bad idea at this point, so Ariel looked forward to see how far the next intersection was. From the looks of it, he supposed that it'd take about half a minute for him to reach at this pace. Hopefully that wouldn't be enough for the duo to start coming after him.

Having nothing else to do to better his chances for this next 30 seconds, Ariel decided to listen in to the conversation in the meantime to try to find out what they were really after. Maybe that'd be more helpful than what his sight offered him at this time of the day.

[The Carrying Blade]

Aria loved this time of day, she especially loved night, it was perfect considering her affliction. It was sad then, that most of the time much to her annoyance she had to rest and sleep otherwise she fall in exhaustion. It also helped that until she reached the house no one would be able to easily notice her missing half of her right arm.

She looked ahead, and spotted 3 people heading the same way as her, two together and one off to the side alone. She wondered if they were heading to Tilly's party, eager to find out she increased her speed so that she may catchup with at least Ariel who was the one alone. Catching up she lightly poked Ariels right shoulder to get his attention.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Taas/

It could have been simple courtly whimsy, the compliment Tilly laid out on her; most likely was, Taas figured, she was the lover to the Ex-Lord... And he was always fancy with his words. Might've bled onto her, for better or worse.
Though, she duelly knew he rarely doled out compliments that he didn't stand behind. A frustrating conundrum that had her staring accusingly at a fishes dried up occuli once again. She couldn't help her face screw up in kind, her mouth quirking to the side in a terse line and her brow furrowing up.

An indifferent snort, a mixture of disbelief and amusement, was all she managed as she shrugged;
"Most folk with my hair are old cunts. Most folk with my eye's got somethin wrong when they piss." She pointed out, her features relaxing as she looked to Tilly; whom had long since moved on past her compliment and had trotted on to some apparent collage of tea.

Taas wasn't done though; she rose her brow, with a drowsy look about her as she decided the fish had stolen enough of her attention... she moved onto the wine barrel and started fisking about her pockets for a spigot.
"Sosays, pretty I might be: but I looks old, or like I'd piss funny." She scoffed again, smirking now as she found the woody spigot and jammed it into the barrel.

"... Thanks, though." She spoke quieter, only barely loud enough to really reach Tilly's ears. Taas cleared her throat, and nodded, furrowing her brow at the mention of a 'G' tea; was this some sort of subterfuge to guess if she was a Gunsche agent? A test Blood told her to take up?

Another little growl spelled out her anger to herself alone, she'd thought the thoughts of agents and fancy Frenchly-Itally-y guile was left at the door: but here they haunted her still.
She looked about the table for a cup and found one quickly enough; she dragged it over, watching Tilly with her good eye as she spilled out some wine into the humble goblet.
"Aye! I'll take some... Lemmie guess; said it was--" Taas cleared her throat, and took a quick sup from the half-filled goblet, setting it down quickly, letting the wine slip into her veins: liquid confidence, alcohol.

She leant an arm ontop of the cask, and crossed her leg as she set herself lightly against the table.
"--'the finest imports from... whogivesadamn, for the most beauteous, gorgeousest, desirousest love of my whole life. T'will lengthen thine life so I might lust for you, forevermore.'" Her tone mimed the Ex-Lord's pompousness to a gross degree, she chuckled as she pulled herself off from the table and made to stand a fairer distance from Tilly, as she clasped her hands together and waited for her tea...

//

[azmoham]

"No worries on that front, I've not much taste for his sort..."
She wondered if her walking companion would catch the subtext, she didn't seem the type to mind that much should she know the warrior's true meaning. She eyed the dark-clad woman from the corner of her eyes, watching how she moved with a certain begrudging admiration for the woman's fluidity even if her actual personality left rather a lot to be desired. Since what she imagined to be her final departure from the Hamlet, she'd become something of a shut-in venturing out mainly to fulfill the odd job, mainly hunting and chopping wood but she'd been called to support the town watch or train up a few new recruits on more than one occasion, some of whom were even Jacques' own students. The relative serenity of her life was almost sickeningly discordant with her experiences up to that point, such chaos and strife and anger that had seemingly just...vanished. Maybe the town had some odd effect, exorcising the worst of it, manifesting as a lingering madness that while still troublesome was nowhere near as dire as it had been, easily subdued with strong drink and a few cigars. As if triggered by the mere thought of it, her had strayed to her interior pocket and removed a small metal tin, which she flicked open. Inside were half a dozen small cigars, no more than four inches long and a dirty brown colour. She removed one and clenched it between her teeth before retrieving a small striker and sparking it near the cigar, within a few moments the tip glowed a merry orange. She inhaled for a second, then opened her mouth and a plume of greyish smoke drifted out in the late Autumn air, swirling in the breeze.
"I've got a brother around somewhere, probably drinking with the husband of the woman we're about to see."

[Vanitypirate]

"You don't look a day over thirty!" It was an exaggeration, though; it was true. Tilly would definitely believe it if her only in-law was in her 30s, but it was common sense that no woman would ever truly like hear that-- with the exception of women who had twice that number of years, of course.
Blinking there, this was the first time she had really admired how convoluted was this simple matter of age. Bewildered blinks turned to a slight wince at the level of crudeness brought to her hearth, but she shrugged it off at anyrate; it certainly wasn't the worst, after all, and it ought to be expected with such a diverse selection of people.

"I'm not a doctor-- can't stand them, matter-of-fact-- but," Still, she continued in a singsong manner, waggling a finger in a lazy, circular motion, "Your hair's not brittle enough to belong to an old lady. Plus, your eyes are much too bright. They damn near glow; wouldn't be surprised if I'd keep seeing them with the lights out."

The twirling hand twirled on up to brush at her hat, where she set it down more firmly upon her head as she started drifting towards the kitchen. A bubbling laugh trailed after Tilly in her wake, too, at the all-too-accurate mimicry of her dearly foppish husband.
It seemed that some things didn't change.

"His words exactly!" She ran with it, sidling behind a doorway to the kitchen, where the fancier spices and tea-things were kept, out of sight, if only to slouch and ease her posture to one that more feasibly promoted walking on a more difficult center of gravity.
She meandered to a cupboard, and pulled it open. After a moment of thought, she called out:

"Y'know, I think he just likes it 'cause it's bloody expensive!"

She grasped the handle of the ashwood cupboard door, and it pulled open readily on its newly-constructed hinges to display its own wealth of strongly fragrant spices and herbs and the like-- filled to the brim with exotic reagents and intricate, unusual treasures from the Orient.
Bloody expensive, thought Tilly again, with some more sullenness.

She scanned over the interior a moment, humming to herself in thought as her eyes passed over the labels of various teas that Lekalis had thoughtfully left behind. She reached for the teapot first, a simple, metal one with a sturdy wooden handle. Her other hand was swift, snaking towards the first of the tea-labels that caught her eye, the one with the funny name: 'ginseng.' She counted out three and tossed them haphazardly down the maw of Lekalis' metal teacup, closing its metal-lipped lid over it.

"It's called 'ginseng', by-the-by!" Tilly hollered to her guest, again, from the kitchen, as she located a handful of matching, metal cups and gathered them up in her other arm; she nudged the door closed with her hip, for lack of hands, before starting for the doorway towards the hearth again.

"Dunno what 'ginseng' is, but it sounds fancy enough..."

[azmoham]

Barely a hundred feet down the winding little street a certain house stood out like a sore thumb, its bare timbers and relative cleanliness standing at odds with the degradation that surrounded it.
"I'd reckon that's it, unless you happen to be aware of any other brand new houses in this rotting hole?"
Casting a sideways glance at the woman beside her, Lavinia smirked before trotting ahead, almost to the front door. Once present at the doorway, she lifted her hand and pounded on the doorway. Three solid knocks that resounded dully into the cool air, and would most certainly be heard inside. As she waited for an answer a few emotions played at her brain, namely a sense of anxiety, how long had it been since she'd been to anything that could be considered a party? Besides the wedding only a little while ago, which was more ceremony than anything else and sported only a few close friends, a decade at least, before she'd marched off to war. Those stiff-lipped formal galas always tied her belly into knots with dread at the endless posturing, and the sense of unfairness that she was stuffed into some utterly ludicrous gown and forced to participate, as if she was one of those strutting turkeys stuffed full of hog's head and expensive wine, prattling incessantly about this and that. Her one sanctuary had been Jacques, his sharp tongue proving both a defence against the most irritating of the suitors which pursued her and in some cases a social draw-bridge of sorts, easing her into conversations that would normally leave her stuttering and lost. But now, she'd be alone, and though Tilly was a far cry from the stuffed-shirts and tightly-strung corsets of Lavinia's upbringing, she couldn't deny a certain sense of apprehension sat heavy in her gut. To sooth it she took another long drag off the cigar, puffing the aromatic smoke up into the air where it wafted against the planks of the half-finished home.

[EtherealNoire]

Autumn air, brisk and bold as a desperate lover, tugged at the twirling strands of Talea's hair, carrying them off into a languid dance while she paced uneasily beneath the eaves of a ramshackle building. The scattered stones and dimpled siding reminded her of home, perhaps too much so, making the entire outing seem like some ill-botched idea. Perhaps she shouldn't have come? Surely lying low in her nest of graves would have presented a far less intimidating excursion. And yet...
She stopped, her bare feet settling into the grit and splintered wood. Perhaps she needed this. After all, she told herself with a begrudged sigh, she had craved adventure. And what bigger adventure could she be faced with than meeting a group of well-dressed eloquent strangers.
The mere thought made shivers of dread prickle along her spine. 
"Oh... what on earth were you thinking! Just look at yourself," she chided as she glanced at a shattered window, a small scrapof dinged glass still clinging to the frame. In it, she could easily see her trembling pale figure. Her knee-length auburn hair, although neatly set only moments before, had been devoured by the chilly air, tumbling into a tangled mess that only facaded at curls. And her dress, although the formfitting ebony gown appeared presentable, a touch of unmistakable crimson colored Talea's cheeks whenever she dared reflect on its acquisition. And her scar....
Bitterly, she turned away, resuming her nervous fidgeting. The envelope in her hand crinkled beneath her nails' biting grip and she glanced down. Despite her best efforts, she had lost her way, a stray in the midst of labyrinths.
Thank heavens for the darkness, her ever familiar repose. The quiescent mirk did wonders for her nerves and she sank into it, her vision darkening at the Autumn chill's embrace. Surely she'd determine her route soon enough, if she could just overcome her doubts.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Taas/

"Pfpfpfpf--" She spat her tongue at the compliment's insistence, as she postured beside the door Tilly had swept into; quaint agility for a woman so weighted with child. Indeed, she moved with the motions of someone ill suited for such daliances of family. Taas' bared her teeth with a clenched scoff, as she leaned against the wall and watched her come about.

"--Aye! He always was like tha`, y'know? Ohhh, he was smart and he knew it, what with 'is studies an' the like. Said t'were for the health or liveliness... Maybe s'true; certainly would explain why he's so bloody good at everything, yeah? But I think he just likes feeling fancy... I know, he likes feelin` right fancy." She chuckled again; finding some comradarie with that shared humor. Still, Taas looked to the oud jutting out behind her waist, and hummed.

She adopted a warmer manner to her smile as she stepped forward as Tilly came to the fore, and set her hands on the metal cups.
" `ere, I got this; I'll set it by t'Hearth? Yeah?" She presumed, and started plucking cups away from her arms until they were properly in her own. Stacking them one inside the other, thanks to their lack of handle.
They were still humble, simple iron pits, but she didn't doubt for a second Lekalis was thinking of getting something glass or porcelain instead.
"Ginseng? That's a good healin` herb: 'ought to make you feel a bit better... Need a seat?"

Taas was setting out the cups along a nearby table to the Hearth, when she heard the knocking at the door; she shared a glance, and immediately set a precedence.
"Ah, I'll get it..." She winked with her one eye; and with her other well hidden by fresh bandages, more looked like a grossly emphasized blink, before she bounced off.

Granted, her intent, while mostly out of kindness; was doubly out of some level of adopted house-dog appeal.
Taas patted down herself when she realized she hadn't snatched a dagger somewhere on her person; a small curse, and she simple wielded her Oud. Slipping it out of its sling to rest on her shoulder like some shoddy battleax, she approached the beaten door.

"Who's it!" She shouted, in a manner that'd hopefully reach Tilly's ears, and imply a response of similar volume through the door, as Taas set a hand on the knob of the door...

//

[azmoham]

Lavinia squinted at the wood, that was most certainly NOT Tilly's voice. But then again, she had said it'd be a party and that did imply that there would be others, but rather unfortunately, that also implied Lavinia would have to meet and greet said others. Sighing, and hoping the sound hadn't carried beyond the door, she shifted from foot to foot.
"Lavinia! Lavinia Salizar, friend of Tilly's?"
She prayed that the woman in question was there to affirm her identity, the warrior, even though wearing a thick enough coat and beneath that a thick enough frock, still didn't anticipate another moment spent idling stupidly in front of the door. For that matter, she supposed she must look rather stupid, standing there in what amounted to armor, sword at her hip, yelling at a door. Gritting her teeth, she knocked again with more force than was perhaps necessary.
"Just let me in, would you? It's cold as tits out here and I'd rather not spend half the night talking to a door like some fucking mummer."
A hint of frustration crept into her tone and she cursed herself, this was party damnit! She couldn't afford to go picking fights before she'd even walked in the cursed door. She'd never had the most keen of social graces, that had been her brother's forte, and after a brief stint of madness followed by a rather rough few months spent adjusting to the tedium of normal life not spent fighting and dying every day, what remained of her social acumen had died a screaming death at the bottom of a bottle and the ashes of a cigar.

[hopper]

A jaunty tune hummed through the chilly night air, followed by an equally jaunty voice.
"While in the merry month of May, now from me home I started
Left, the girls of Tuam were nearly broken-hearted
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother
Then off to reap the corn and leave where I was born
Cut a stout, black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins
A brand-new pair of brogues to rattle over the bogs
And frighten all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin!"
Rapid strumming of the instrument followed, and then a short giggle. Winifred all but danced down the street, eyes closed as she spun and twirled in what almost resembled a ball dance were it not for that she were alone and it moved much faster, in time with the beat of the song which rung jovially off the walls of the surrounding buildings. The night seemed to warm around her, fingers hopping merrily across the strings of her beloved mandolin, plucking the strings with striking dexterity. For a moment she paused, as if savouring the applause of an imaginary audience, about to launch into the next verse she stopped however when she spotted a figure pacing in the gloom. With hardly any caution, she began to play again and twirled her way half a dozen steps closer to the half-unseen person.
"Hello! Nice night, isn't it?"

[Vanitypirate]

"Sure wish feeling fancy wouldn't hurt my coinpurse so badly." Tilly lamented, though with a smile on her face at the lingering thought of Lekalis; his penchant for luxury was an odd mix of being enjoyable stressful. It did hurt, admittedly, to see a stock of coin drained so rapidly, like wine poured from a bottle.
On the other hand, she wouldn't change the fact about Lekalis if she had the chance.

Her eyes flicked to the cups and teapot as they were relieved from her, pursing her lips indignantly, though she held her tongue; she was only being helpful, after all. She instead settled on the same, easy smile and demeanor, nodding along as Taas already presumed to set the tea-ware by the fire as if she had a say in the matter at all.
"Yes, that'd be fantastic, thanks-- and no, thank you, at that! I'll have plenty of time to sit later, I--"

As fast as the words poured out, there was a knock on the door.

And just as swiftly, Taas was already upon it, brandishing her instrument like some over-sized bludgeon. Tilly quirked her head and stared, incredulous, at the spectacle at her very own household door; did the other woman really hope to do harm with a glorified plank of wood?
On second thought, Taas had the sort of build to do real damage with but a plank of wood. But it was a terribly expensive way to go about it.
"Ah, hold the sodding lute!"

She hurried forward, more-or-less at a hobble, and made to hold the belly of the oud with a gentle hand-- not a force strong enough to take hold of the instrument-made-weapon herself, but to at least discourage Taas from proving its merit as a bludgeon and busting an old friend's pretty nose.

"It's a friend?" Tilly flashed her teeth as her eyes flicked rapidly to and from the instrument and the door.

"Hello Lavinia!" She greeted hastily, awkwardly, through the door, leaning some to the side so as to shout around Taas. And then she came back,

"She's lovely!" Tilly insisted, "You'll like her. Let's let the poor thing in before she catches cold?"

[Vanitypirate]

/Taas/

"Lavinia?" She tried out the word, squinting at the door skeptically; as she let her oud fall limp to Tilly's insistence, she chuckled a bit awkwardly and gave her an apologetic look, something like a hound being sorry it barked.

She cleared her throat and shrugged, though she didn't rightly relinquish where she set her Oud; there was no other real spot for it to rest comfortably, though her knuckles looked a tad less white, and her arms seemed to lax.

If this Lavinia's words and voice were anything to go by, it explained how Tilly managed to stay alive long enough in the world to garner a child. Granted, Taas had few doubts on the good Tilly's dexterity pre-pregnancy, so it was hardly a surprise.
What was surprising, was that; if such brutish kin found themselves so flocked to Tilly's coat flaps like chicks to a goose, how did Blood ever find enough privacy with her to get her so swollen?

Her demeanour was all but facial expressions as she let the Mother of The House to the door, stepping aside, though she did start the door on its opening arc for Tilly to take lead.
"Talking like that; seems your head could do with a bit of chill, friend." She spoke more kindly, her voice like smouldering fire with a snap and pop that made her accent dance around Europe.

Regardless, she brought her Oud down in a small fashion, and saw to plinking at the chords and knobs at the head before she bowed, once and if Lavinia showed herself,
"Taas; Payel. Blood of Blood : Lekalis. And Tilly, now, I suppose. Friend, too." She smirked and flashed a wolfish tooth with a bitty shrug.
"Pleasure t'meet yiz."

//

[azmoham]

Lavinia let out an audible groan of relief when the door finally creaked open, though it was with some frustration that she saw it blocked, both by Tilly and by a less familiar figure. She was, for lack of a better word, wolfish. The tan-skinned warrior peered cautiously at the other woman, she was not quite what was to be expected but still a major set up from some gaudy noble bedecked in jewels and crooning about her expensive tastes.
“Lavinia Salazar, I have a brother but I suppose you haven’t met him. Quite the sister you’ve gotten there, hope you’re taking good care of her.”
She cocked a thumb at Tilly, eyes almost betraying a middling amount of envy. At this point, it seemed likely that the Salazar clan, at least in this part of the world, was likely to die out with siblings given that neither had a preoccupation for the opposite sex and both seemed to have a rather terrible habit of choosing lovers who died or left them with startling regularity. It was something that barbed at her pride just a little, that her father wouldn’t get the lineage he deserved, instead he was stuck with her and Jacques and they weren’t much really. Meanwhile those pigs that still held the name ‘Mienier’ would prosper and live to wallow in their wealth for a hundred generations hence, a thought that was enough to rile her stomach. But this wasn’t the night to be bitter, at least not till she was well and truly hammered, for right now she tried to force her mind from the injurious topic and towards one more conducive towards being a good guest. When she saw Tilly, she only had to force her smile a little, eyes running up and down her figure with some appreciation. She was a far cry from the beauty of the wedding, but still she seemed radiant though in a more urban light, though that was not bereft of its allures.
“You’re looking, good! Healthy! Oh, speaking of which.”
She plucked the cigar from her mouth and dropped it to the ground, stepping on the ground to fully extinguish it.
“Sorry, but, keeps the nerves calm, I’m sure you know how it is.”
There was an unmistakeable grimness in her tone as she spoke the last few words, eyes cloudy with far off memories that stung with potency that still startled her.

[black379]

Whether from an abundance of sympathy or of pity, Lekalis had made use of Courcy. Especially as the ex-robber loitered in labor, an extra pair of hands with a capable blade was welcome deterrent against any number of threats the hamlet was home to. The hatted woman and cloaked man were friends, so they said, but in truth they sufficed as associates enough to keep her in line.

Tilly was safely home, but Blood dismissed his friend/sellsword for better company. Apparently there was to be some gathering at the couple's abode and Courcy would make better use of herself there anyways. She snagged a couple drinks, compliments of a certain warden with whom she shared a secretive dalliance (in spite of Tilly's best efforts). Once well enough burdened with booze, the redhead expected to arrive in time to shepherd the bloated blonde from the ever-so-dangerous women that she quite cordially invited to invade her home.

She misjudged her pace or her sobriety, perhaps both. Already she spotted some ladies crowding Tilly's door frame. Not all of them were familiar, and that had her on edge. Her eyes flitted to her halberd's gleaming axe-head as if it might settle her nerves with some affirmation that it wouldn't be put to use.

However there was one unmistakable figure, lingering on Tilly's porch. Courcy stopped in her tracks, scoffing, and quickly turning her back from the humble homestead. She resented the thought of sharing any space with Lavinia, and surely the feeling was mutual. Besides, she could sentry the house just as easily from the outside, though she was still many paces from the door.

[EtherealNoire]

Oct 5, 2017 19:41:57 GMT -8 hopper said:

A jaunty tune hummed through the chilly night air, followed by an equally jaunty voice.
"While in the merry month of May, now from me home I started
Left, the girls of Tuam were nearly broken-hearted
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother
Then off to reap the corn and leave where I was born
Cut a stout, black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins
A brand-new pair of brogues to rattle over the bogs
And frighten all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin!"
Rapid strumming of the instrument followed, and then a short giggle. Winifred all but danced down the street, eyes closed as she spun and twirled in what almost resembled a ball dance were it not for that she were alone and it moved much faster, in time with the beat of the song which rung jovially off the walls of the surrounding buildings. The night seemed to warm around her, fingers hopping merrily across the strings of her beloved mandolin, plucking the strings with striking dexterity. For a moment she paused, as if savouring the applause of an imaginary audience, about to launch into the next verse she stopped however when she spotted a figure pacing in the gloom. With hardly any caution, she began to play again and twirled her way half a dozen steps closer to the half-unseen person.
"Hello! Nice night, isn't it?"

A forlorn glance, fletting in its existence beneath Talea's shroud of hair, answered the young woman's call. Did she not understand the perils of addressing creatures of shadows?
"Plesant indeed, albeit deceptive."
The lamp light glinted in her voluptuous smile before winking out of view again, like fireflies in the night. "Only the shadows truly relish its beauty."

Delicate harmonies painted the air around the newcomer, an intricate web Talea found herself ensnared in. What was this? Her tenative steps forward betrayed her pled for darkness. She craved the foreign melody. Perhaps this was what the light-dwellers named music?
"Your jovial nature is foreign to me. Who are you?"
Silence accompanied her question, save for the wind's melancholy whisper in her ear. Only she understood its desires to wing away into the night.