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Post by azmoham on Oct 24, 2017 16:27:53 GMT -8
Laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?
Lavinia quirked an eyebrow at the woman's shameless flirtations, sitting up perhaps another few inches.
"Plenty, I'd be surprised if she had any of them. That's why I brought this."
She took the tin flask from her breast pocket and held it up to the light of the fire, whose embers glinted strangely off the metal, casting an odd glow around the thing as if it were some holy trinket.
"You can have a sip if you like, but try not to lean too heavy on it, this'll knock you on that pretty ass of yours if you're not careful."
She bandied the flask about, waving it Dufay's general direction with a wry smile. Perhaps the night could be salvaged with the intervention of a good strong drink and someone to bed, but knowing this town there was an equal chance Dufay was a walking corpse or a demon or such. Honestly, part of her was hoping for a fight if only to prove that the this little idyllic abode was just as treacherous as any other part of the estate, that there was no serenity to be found here but that of the grave. But she had to cast the thought aside, if she came to wishing ruin on even her friends, then she'd know that the place truly had won, and she was too stubborn for that.
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Post by black379 on Oct 24, 2017 16:46:58 GMT -8
Courcy would have offered a comment on her 'nannying' for Tilly, but the point-hatted person departed to answer the door. Turning her face, etched with an exerted grin, back toward Taas. The pole-arm shifted to rest on her left as she extended her hand to meet and greet with the other woman's.
"A relative of Blood's?" The ginger cocked her head slightly, her eyes roaming to catch some memory. She thought the ex-lord was bereft of family, at least those still living. "I wonder if I've heard of you. He spins some tales."
As her arms returned to cross at her chest, she stood a little taller than before. Taas must have expected her to be reserved, the hellion thought, in defense of her immodest attire. But Courcy was heedless of anyone's criticism. It was no use dissembling herself for this stranger when she was so companionable with certain others.
"Nothing clever, jus-" Her retort broke as the jester re-introduced herself into the conversation. The silvery tune made Winifred all the more difficult to ignore. Courcy watched her intently, as though expecting the performer going to impress and then quickly scatter to another crowd.
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Post by 🐴Can🗡️ on Oct 25, 2017 8:01:58 GMT -8
Ariel stood aside Aria with discomfort growing inside him with every second that passed waiting for the door to be opened, what with all the voices coming from the inside of the house. The opening of the door and the host's confused stare didn't help him at all, and he simply stayed silent and avoided eye contact with Tilly as he tried to retain his composure and questioned his life choices.
What was he thinking, attending to a party of strangers without even being invited to it? And to make matters worse, he wasn't prepared for it at all. He could've spent more effort on his hair and makeup, he could've gotten himself some fancy wear that wasn't as old as the ones he was wearing right now... or couldn't he? As difficult as it was to admit, he knew that he didn't have enough money to buy himself food for the next day, let alone clothes.
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Post by relentless on Oct 25, 2017 8:45:12 GMT -8
Dufay paused as she eyed the drink, well, mainly looking past it as it was held out to her and toward Lavinia. She stared for a moment, slightly tensing up as her instincts kicked in. Then she realised that this was a party, and not one of her charismatic endevours in her past. Calming herself, she fluttered her eyelids and smiled gingerly at Lavinia.
"Don't mind if I do! Awfully generous of such a..."
Dufay paused as she took the flask cautiously into her hand, holding it with one hand and raising it up to her nose, giving a sniff and recoiling a little.
"Lovely person such as yourself."
Dufay coughed, raising her eyebrows at her before she took a sudden swig, delving into the drink rather than dancing around the bush. The sizzle in her mouth hit her immediately, that sour, tangy taste on her tongue made her cringe with her mouth constantly pulling a raspberry.
"Mmmhm! MMMhm!"
Dufay hummed in mild pain and humour mixing in her aching mouth as she was afraid to swallow, but eventually bit the bullet and swallowed the small amount of strong alcohol down her throat, producing a twitch in her head followed by a sagging of her shoulders, eventually sighing heavily out of relief.
"-Well then! Teaches me for gunning for all the cuties 'round here... christ."
Dufay exclaimed softly, rubbign her throat with her other hand as she extended the flask back down to Lavinia, before breaking down into a coughing fit of laughter. It was a jolly, happy laughter, making her stomach ache a little but not lasting that long, shooting a smile that look pained at Lavinia.
"I bet I had a silly face didn't I? Hope I didn't spill your juice all over you."
Dufay cackled in soft laughter, holding her hand up to her mouth so she didn't laugh too loud.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 25, 2017 16:56:43 GMT -8
Tilly blinked a few times, eyes flickering incredulously between the two: the man and the woman, who was better dressed than the guests at her very own wedding.
She seemed at a loss for words, though her hands unfurled to grasp the box out of sheer instinct.
"You... you're going to sleep in that?" She nodded to the extravagant ballgown in question, in disbelief. She waggled both elbows at the great, red, gilded thing for emphasis. So long had her painful politeness left her; nobody seemed to respond very well to manners and hints and nudges in the first place.
Regardless, Tilly had seemed to gather her wits with a crease of her blonde brows.
Had they even read the invitation? She could have sworn that she explicitly mentioned casual dress and ladies only, and she was absolutely certain she did not make any mention of weaponry, or armor, or ballgowns...
"I don't have any servantfolk to help you change out of your dress, and it wouldn't be really all that proper to let you run amok unclothed. I don't have anywhere to keep your dress from getting mussed up, either." She pointed out with an uncharacteristic flatness to her tone now that the shock of how the other woman had appeared wore off. She was an odd figure, though, paler than the moon with eyes that glowed. She frowned as she pressed her fingers into the small of her back in an effort to soothe the damnable tension there.
Bloody breaking my back for these people...
Indeed, she had rather exhausted all energy for sugary-sweet words.
"I wrote on the invitation that this was casual dress only. And I'd also written that there are to be no menfolk here, either. My husband's away, and the ladies in there aren't full-dressed. It's indecent." She gave a huff, out of both irritation and a vague shortness of breath, shifting the box to be held in one hand while she pointed a finger somewhere in Aria and Ariel's direction.
She extended the box forward for them to take.
"Please. It's an informal event. Go home and change into something and come back, if you'd like; but your man can't come along."
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Oct 25, 2017 17:56:27 GMT -8
Aria's smile vanished as Tilly spoke, her worst fears were destroyed and replaced with new ones.
"I'm deeply sorry, Mrs.Tilly. My friend here was only escorting me, he wasn't coming for the party at all just wanted to make sure I got to the right place safely. And, as I said before, sorry for dressing so fancy. Keep the box though, as I said its contents have been collecting dust, I don't want it anymore and it was supposed to be for you. Goodbye. Come on Ariel." Aria finished, trying hard to keep her composure. She then grabbed Ariel's hand and pretty much forced him to follow as she pulled him along, away from the front door and Tilly.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Oct 25, 2017 18:16:31 GMT -8
/Taas/
Winifred's sudden arrival was poignant enough to snatch Taas' attention quite immediately; her head snapping to face that now beamed up at her like a child to a piece of candy.
Albeit, she soon realized the girl's attentions were neither on her face nor her attire, but her long-necked Oud, which she bounced on her shoulder with a roll of the muscles there.
Though before she spoke, she cast a pointed glance at Courcy; implying an unsaid 'We're not quite done' before her eye settled on Winifred for true. Turning to face her more properly as she gave a brief shake of Taas and Courcy's cojoined hands, before relinquishing her own to her belt.
She'd almost dare to call the girl a runt of a thing, given her spindly nature. The aimless tune filling the air with something annoying, but friendly all the same. Fitting for the girl, she supposed; as she leant in and eyed her Oud.
With a small smile, she brought the instrument down so she could examine it easier; holding it at its base and neck, tilting it before Winifred so that the pine body would catch the light: a myriad of scars mingled with carvings of wolves and woods and oceans that properly differentiating either became an endevour demanding a god's determination.
However, to one versed in them, Eldar Futhaark runes were poetically formed on its surface. Made of the wolves, the trees, and the oceans all. Indeed, even the battle-scars seemed to contribute to some hidden message.
"An 'Oud', lil' mouse. Comes from someplace far inn'a east with a name that breaks my I can't care to say, else I break my tongue over it, y'know?" She chuckled and shrugged, thumbing the silver capped tuning plugs lovingly.
"Made it myself I did. Call's it Valadyrskalla." Another proud nod, and she looks to Winifred's instrument, pointing to it with the hand at the neck of her Oud.
"Whaddabout yours?" , she asked, but knew the answer; all too telling in her eye as it roamed the body of Winifred's instrument, squinting a touch before sizing up Winifred herself. Her fingers looked dangerously dexterous, and a curious scar seemed to be burned on her palms... A passionate artist, for sure. Most had to be if they wanted to live, and she was sure the woman had sought little else in her life but the passions of music and entertainment.
If her attire, her lithe limbs were anything to go by... She played a different tune in the shadows; a song of cut twine and snatched purses.
Her shaved crown seemed only to reassure some measure of madness of passion, or punishment for a long off crime.
Taas' good eye fell under a guardsman's furrowed brow as it steadied on Winifred's hand, looking to Winifred's tanzanite eyes for something... yet all she could truly see was a hare's innocence and a dancing harmonic that strummed in her very soul.
//
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Post by hopper on Oct 25, 2017 18:29:39 GMT -8
Winifred continued to stare at the instrument for another handful of seconds, only looking up from her trance when a thin set of fingers brushed past her back. her head snapped up and twisted behind just to catch a vanishing glimpse of the woman from earlier, the stranger.
Finally registering that a question had been asked, she looked up to Taas somber face, traced the craggy lines that composed her rugged features. It was a soldier's face, not much made for smiling nor joking nor crying, but suited well to scowls and growls, such a marked difference to the smooth, nigh unmarred face of Winifred. Realizing that she'd been gawking like a passerby at a lion at the carnival, and quickly looked away.
"It'sa mandolin, I didn't make it but I was...friends with the man who did."
She explained, her fingers skipping like a heartbeat, faltering as she swam back to that moment when her too-small hands first caressed the solid wooden neck of the thing, wavering uncertainly over its silvery strings.
"I never named it, never really thought to I guess."
Her instrument was her partner to be sure, but a nameless party, she didn't know anyone who named instruments, though she'd heard of naming swords.
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Post by azmoham on Oct 25, 2017 21:14:52 GMT -8
"I told ya it'd sting, didn't I?"
She took the flash back and just as quickly took a swig equal to that of Dufay's, hardly flinching.
"You may wanna find a seat, 'fore you lose your feet."
The woman gestured to the chair that sat nearby to her own, facing the fire. She could use the company, even if the company was from someone like Dufay. At this point, beggars can't be choosers. With a sigh, she reclined back down in her chair, continuing to watch the embers hop merrily about their ashen home.
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Post by 🐴Can🗡️ on Oct 26, 2017 2:15:05 GMT -8
Ariel had learned early in his life that such things didn't matter as much as people thought they did, but he wasn't in the state to defend himself, both emotionally, and with not being invited and all. Yes, in fact, he was about to cry. Not solely because of being rejected, it just happened to be the final straw. Yet he held the tears back, as now was not the time.
Ariel didn't resist being pulled along by Aria, he was grateful that someone moved him out of there as he feared he would be unable to move by himself. After they were out of earshot from the house, he broke the silence with a bitter tone. "I... I would like to thank you for your good intentions... despite... despite..." He was unable to speak any further as he felt the words get stuck in his throat. He didn't want to cry in front of Aria, to make himself look even more miserable, so he tried to gently remove his hand from hers. "I... I'll just go home now."
Home... Did it even exist anymore? It was probably in the hands of someone else now. Or ravaged by the peasants. Unless... Unless his parents were successful in gathering money. But were they even alive?
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Post by relentless on Oct 26, 2017 3:45:58 GMT -8
"I told ya it'd sting, didn't I?" She took the flash back and just as quickly took a swig equal to that of Dufay's, hardly flinching. "You may wanna find a seat, 'fore you lose your feet." The woman gestured to the chair that sat nearby to her own, facing the fire. She could use the company, even if the company was from someone like Dufay. At this point, beggars can't be choosers. With a sigh, she reclined back down in her chair, continuing to watch the embers hop merrily about their ashen home. Dufay complied without any of her overwhelming flirty back chat, raising her hands up in the air, surrendering to her judgement as she sat herself back down. A gentle decline back into the leather denizens of the chair, sinking into its shape almost perfectly, giving out a gasp of satisfaction. "These are lovely, very lovely indeed.." Dufay noted idly as she allowed both her hands to trial the middle of her corset, slowly pulling at straps at the side and such until eventually removing it. Folding it in two, she drooped it over the armrest of the chair, underneath was a silk shirt, a matte black in colour and somewhat puffy, though not as flamboyant as her landschekt-like arms. Smoothing her hands across her stomach, she sighed again, glancing at Lavinia momentarily before she opened her mouth, words not coming out immediately. "I believe it's considered rude of me to... be somewhat vulgar without proper formalities. Must be the air! Least I hope.it is, dont want to be looking like a slag! But in any regards, Apologies, Miss Lavinia." Dufay hummed at her, before returning her gaze back to the flames. They picked across one another so smoothly, more elegantly than Dufay could move at all. Though there was still that raging ideal about fire, similar to the fire in his brother. "Tell me.." Dufay paused as she swayed her head in her chair, waggling a finger over at Lavinia. "Your hair is gorgeous, how does everyone here have better hair than I do? Is it a secret spread amongst friends?" Dufay spectulater in a mildly casual manner, but mostly kiddy tone. As if by the start of the new topic occurring, she began to turn and twist a part of her head with one hand, dangling near the front as she paused. "Do tell! Or don't! Or maybe a little! I'd be very grateful to get some tips from another 'pretty ass'!" Dufay egged on with a wry smile, looking into at the doorway she waltzed through, spying a quarter of Taas's back before she looked back at Lavinia. |
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Oct 26, 2017 7:00:11 GMT -8
Ellie smiled as she walked through darkness, very glad that Tilly had invited her over for this little sleepover. She guessed knowing Blood was at least part of it, she hadn't really talked with her at all for a bit if at all. She couldn't make the wedding, mainly because she didn't have anything great to wear for such a great event. But, thanks to this having casual wear only, Duvals overcoat and her usual plain leather pants with a leather bodice over a cotton shirt. All of it thanks to Duval, who had so gladly payed for it which Ellie was extremely grateful for. Made this a perfect time to get to know Tilly herself, but from what she could see from Tilly as she walked closer to the house didn't make her feel well.
She also spied two people moving away from the front door of Tilly's new house, and the look of displeasure on Tilly's face gave reason they were unwelcomed guests. The pregnancy was definitely taking its tole on the woman, if only given on her figure and posture. Tilly would possibly be able to see her on her right side but given the poor light perhaps she would only be able to see a silhouette of another figure moving closer and mistake it for nothing but shadows playing tricks on her.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Oct 26, 2017 12:34:50 GMT -8
Aria let go of his hand, but, put the hand on his shoulder instead. She didn't spend all this time getting ready just to be rejected into her boring and heavy clothing again. She had dragged Ariel with her and then lied to save his skin. This wouldn't do for her at all.
"No, not yet at least. Would you care to join me for a walk around town, maybe dinner? This little inconvenience isn't going to make me waste an oppurtunity, what do you say?" She asked, noting his strained voice and wetness in his eyes. She was going to fix that.
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Post by EtherealNoire on Oct 27, 2017 20:43:59 GMT -8
Talea entertained the notion of leaving as she watched the party members disband, each quarantined into their own personal displeasure. At least some, it seemed, as she watched Winifred approach yet another creature of music, attempted to escape the confines of isolation. On Talea's part however, she cared little of whether she was noticed at all. Rather slinking on the outskirts, savoring the silence that engulfed her measured strides.
Her fingers trailed along the walls, tracing every knick and mark with jagged nails like a ghost clawing at the imprints of the living. A portion of her soul longed for that understanding. Even in their displeasure, the guests were able to feign at some measure of joviality. And she felt the bitter tang of envy against her tongue. How distant, yet enticing, those concepts were. A sensation of warmth, the tantalizing shroud of passion and desire. Desire for a strong drink, that is.
She could hardly help from laughing, the silvery notes escaping her lips as she slipped through the doorway, swaying past Lavinia and Dufay without so little as a glance. Here she was thinking of drinking when scarcely a moment in her life had passed in drink.
No... what she needed was fire. The embers danced in her eyes and shimmered off her hair as she alighted before the hearth, her thoughts already fixated on their intoxicating warmth. Yet in her heart, the chill of night only continued to grow.
Her presence wavered, sometimes rooted before the flames, while at other times sifting through venomous memories. And she waited, her breath drawn as she debated her next course of action. Only her face bore any sign of awareness, with her lips set in a grim line and her eyes like a swarth of shadows beneath her tresses of blood.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Oct 28, 2017 11:10:17 GMT -8
Utterly bewildered, Tilly shut closed the wooden door, stepping it in with her toes so as to shut out the cold.
She fingered the lid of the box, frowning at that door with her back to the party.
A housewarming gift... The blue box certainly did not feel especially heavy, and when she tilted it, its contents shifted what little weight it had lightly to one side and the other with tiny, sharp clinks. Though Tilly could say with confidence that this was no ordinary housewarming pan or pot.
She gave it another firm, albeit small shake.
No one ever dressed up like they were about to go meet the Queen and gave away gifts for nothing, after all, and especially not to a stranger who had turned them away on their doorstep. Even if it was justified.
It was small enough to be either terribly expensive, or a trap, or some unholy combination of the aforementioned two. This did not beget a public unwrapping, but it would not do to unveil a trap on her lonesome.
She wheeled around, steeling herself for some protest by her joints. There was a locked, ashwood door, towards the end of the room, beside the hearth, that served as the front entrance to the personally residential floor of the home, and she started to this with some determination, plucking her key from her pocket.
Tilly gave pause, key brandished, and scanned the room for a suitable accomplice...
And there she was-- not entirely suitable looking, but rather lonely, drifting to and away from the fire. The woman had a veritable curtain of hair, down over her eyes and draping low down her back.
She wondered if she'd very much like to borrow a comb, but approached regardless, if only to know this moth was that floated about her hearth.
"S'cuse me, miss? Don't think I caught your name!" She held the box in the crook of her arm, key wedged between two fingers, as she approached Talea with a smiling row of teeth. She waved with her other hand.
"Think you could be a dear and help me? I've got to move some things around upstairs to go stow this bitty box away."
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