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Post by relentless on Nov 19, 2017 18:15:11 GMT -8
Duval bit his lip and seethed harshly, much louder than before as if he were prepping for a torch-lit cauterization, before the unusual pain dropped from his body quite suddenly. As if something, or someone was making a point.
As if in the deepest recesses of his mind, he could hear the chattering laughter of a rabbit prancing off into the autumn fields.
"N-nah it's fine mate. Cut my arm a tad on a bit of broken glass, but it's nothing to worry about... just stings a bit, mm?"
Duval clarified in a wishy washy tone of voice, before he flexed his tongue and cleared his throat abruptly.
"Anyway, pretty sure ol' George, may he fuck his own liver into quiet submission; has never been apart of any 'holinessy' type of stuff."
Duval answered, moving on quickly to move the subject on so the man wouldn't be drawn so much to his forearm.
"Let me tell you somethin, if I saw my boy George parading around singing the lords name... I'd have to check on the Abbeys stock of red wine they keep for all those ceremonies and shite..."
Duval jested, though he cocked his head and wiggled a finger at the priest.
"That reminds me... are those bottles for free? Y'know, 'gifts from the flame' or whatever? Because phew! That wine's pretty good, 'specially when you're sat down next to the head of the Abbey having a nice, warm chat."
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Post by Kidney on Nov 19, 2017 18:55:13 GMT -8
Tod readjusted himself at the final comment, his chin raising and then lowering as the squeak echoed around his closed mouth. But that didn't help as it was clearly heard through his tightly closed lips. He coughed internally, mouth still closed as he opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked up, his eyebrows raising as he opened his mouth a second time. His finger and shoulders moved up at the same time as his mouth, almost as if they were cerebrally connected.
He tried to put into words the miles-long scroll of questions eternally writing more and more as it extended. He pointed forward, "Have you..."
He looked down, the realization hitting a wall of suspicion, "been doing things..."
He tried to not believe it, but the expectations Nick had been displaying made it excruciatingly possible in this dark, unholy place. He cringed, "Ehhh..."
Tod looked down, his hand hitting the table. "Oh no."
"That is very unprofessional."
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Post by hopper on Nov 20, 2017 7:08:54 GMT -8
The bald woman shook her head, eyes wandering up and down Jeanne's meager frame as she changed. Like a butterfly turning back into a caterpillar, it seemed almost tragic though she couldn't quite name why. She wondered what it'd be like to live as someone else, to have to do it, what a stark though. She decided immediately she'd had more than her lifetime's fair share of dourness and gloom packed into the last twelve hours. Retrieving her mandolin from where it lay cast aside on the floor, she picked it up and began to tune it, the soft notes being tossed out into the air and seeming to hang there for a second before fading out again, like torch bugs briefly lighting up a darkened field. That was a step in the right direction at least, now if only they could get down to the bar and indulge in some real fun, perhaps some nice early-morning drinks followed by a rapturous round of cards where she'd most certainly swindle some poor farmer or clerk or shoemaker from their hard-earned pence, which would be stashed away into her purse with mischievous glee. That seemed like a fine plan, perfect to help rectify the dreadful stuffiness that'd come over them both.
"Just man asking about a dog is all, he went down to nap and now it's wandered away."
She lied with effortless nonchalance, gazing with a small smile towards the door.
"Now I'm of the strong opinion that far too much thinking has been going on here, I think we have to go get a few drinks to help correct this, aye?"
She wiggled her eyebrows at Jeanne's reflection, her small smile flowering into a full-born smirk that practically dripped with good-humor and bad judgment.
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Post by Unter on Nov 21, 2017 11:05:41 GMT -8
Iver stepped inside the Tavern, head high and arrogant looking, as if he expected everyone to stop and mock him.
He advanced to the barman, and ordered a drink. He struggled to sit on the high chairs, making some noise.
"A milk please."
He rubbed the cold out of his fingers, lurched on his chair and waited.
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Post by relentless on Nov 21, 2017 16:04:06 GMT -8
Oh how gleeful Duval was at this moment in time. He could just feel himself swelling up with an ego made out of air just from his thoughts. If George could see him now, he'd probably be more than happy to forget about his drink night betrayals.
A very crooked and salacious grin spread across Duvals face like a cancer, slow and deadly as he watched the man idle in his own thoughts. He knew, knowingly that the man was grasping at thoughts that could cause some 'wood on oak' action right now.
'-Now that would be a curious endevour'
Duval thought to himself, a low gurgle of a chuckle slipping out of his mouth as he rolled his hand back towards his drink, the pain now subsiding as humor filled his lungs.
"Heh, you'll know when I've done it... short story, I haven't!"
Duval reassured with subtle hints passing through his constantly sultry and gravelly voice as he communicated with the man half lid eyes and that mad hatter grin.
"Nah mate. We're friends, though PHEW!"
Duval gave an exaggerated wipe across his forehead, slamming his left elbow on the table to cause an abrupt shake as he pointed hard at the man with the same crazy smirk on his grin.
"She-is-a-LOOKER!"
Duval said loudly, slapping the desk lightly with his left hand between each pause he produced to emphasis each word, before he retracted back to the back of his booth, sipping his drink with a wry smile and a little giggle.
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Post by Kidney on Nov 21, 2017 16:40:20 GMT -8
Tod let out a short, wheezing breath, clasping his hands together as he looked up. He composed himself, lowering his eyebrows as he opened his mouth to speak. He opened his eyes, catching one glimpse of Duval's face, and a loud 'HA!' of a laugh escaped him as he keeled over the tabletop. He breathed in, sniffing deeply with his stuffed-up nose.
He giggled, "The funny part is, she is."
He spoke this into the tabletop as he hands pushed him upwards. His face was a little red, but he took another deep breath, and rubbed his hand together. His shoulders heaved slightly with jumpy shocks of stifled laughter. "That was a lot of built up laughter, I think," He looked down, pleasantly surprised, "I haven't laughed in a long time."
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Post by black379 on Nov 21, 2017 20:50:32 GMT -8
A similarly spirited smile lit on Jeanne's lips. His face flushed at how easily the musician's smirk could coax a giddy chuckle from him. The jester turned from the mirror, and for an instant his face was hidden from Winifred's tempting gaze. Despite his effort, the short span of time was by no means enough to correct the embarrassing grin he sported because of her.
Griswold came to mind - how lonely he must have been in this strange place, abandoned by the one person he knew. Yet Jeanne Luc longed to be as capricious and carefree as Wynne. A skirmish ensued in her mind, for and against the rabbit god.
"Aye." The boy finally echoed, with a sheepish lilt. "Drink til we drop."
-
The clingsome girl was no less irritating as she so pointedly 'disproved' Courcy. Rolling her eyes, Courcy swiveled back to the door and made to leave.
"Fine, let's talk." With a heavy sigh, the ginger shrugged in submission to Ellie's presence. Her steps were only heavier as she hoped to catch up with her companions sooner and excuse herself from the prying girl.
[Courcy exits the Tavern (presumably with Ellie) into the Hamlet Streets]
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Post by hopper on Nov 24, 2017 6:51:47 GMT -8
"Ayy! That's the spirit! I knew you were a good choice."
She playfully punched hers (or was it now his?) back, cheered to see a shift in attitude. Springing to the door, she unlocked it and pulled it open with a grand motion, gesturing dramatically with her free hand towards the dusty hall that lay beyond.
"After you, monsieur."
She smirked, still bent over in her exaggerated bow. With her nose perhaps five inches from the carpet, her clear, bright eyes staring up at Jeanne, her great billowing sleeves hung loosely on her scarecrow frame, making her seem as petite and waifish as a flower, but still there remained that buzzing energy beneath which served to enliven her limbs and give her that intense presence, like a spark smoldering fiercely in a bundle of hay but not lighting it, the energy yet yearning against what contained it.
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Post by Unter on Nov 24, 2017 7:21:43 GMT -8
Iver finished his glass and sighed. "This isn't really what I expected" he said under his breath.
He scratched is newly born beard and jumped on his feet. He wanted to take a walk, after the bumpy stagecoach.
He left the Tavern to walk in the Hamlet Streets.
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Post by relentless on Nov 24, 2017 9:27:37 GMT -8
Duval smirked widely at the mans cooperative jovial behavior, giving him a momentary silence, his legs unfolding from their position so both feet would be planted on the floor as he leaned forward, lifting his drink up partially from the table with his right hand, tilting the drink toward Tod.
"For the fat bottomed owner of the Abbey..."
Duval pauses as he raises his eyebrows twice, a chortle escaping his lips.
"-For the drunken warden that will protect us always..."
Duval hummed as his glass of wine neared his lips, taking a nice deep sniff of the alcoholic substance before he sighed with relief, staring at Tod wide eyed with a thinner, but more sultry smile, returning back to his resting face.
"Annnnd for me, renowned womanizer and quickest bloke to put a pellet between you're eyes! Did I miss anyone out? Hah!"
Duval says with a great cheer, clinking his glass against Tod's stationary one with a resounding tink before he guzzled the red wine with slow gulps. He drank the wine awfully quick, making his eyes roll a bit. Though he finished it up quick, slamming it on the table and his body leaning to the side to press against the window frame. Briefly would he pass a glance at the window now and then, lingering on the citizens that frolicked around, the stationary stalls with apples and other foods, the guardsman sprinting toward the town square holding his arm, the whores standing on the...
The guardsman holding his arm... bloodied, and from the looks of it... terrified.
Duval took a more serious expression as he turned himself over to look closer and more effectively through the window, his eyes traveling up the road from where the guardsman had ran, only for his emerald eyes to shiver around the tower of smoke building up in the south. He had seen that smoke before, made that smoke before. Not just any tobacco smoke, but something more destructive. Something that made him look back on the bitter past, freezing up in his chair and clenching the window frame tight as he stood up quickly.
A reckoning.
"Hooooo boy, that don't look pretty. And I'm not talking about the ladies as well, look over there chum!"
Duval directed toward Tod with a wild point at the smoke, his face getting awfully close to the window as he looked up at the smoke.
"-Bastard bloody fishmen must be thinking we're fish food. Maybe its those walking bones, coming to drag us back to their graves.."
Duval rambled on in paranoid thought, looking around, before looking at Tod with a blank expression, worry becoming fraught in the mans eyes before turning back to the window with a bit lip and searching gaze.
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Post by Kidney on Nov 24, 2017 12:14:07 GMT -8
Tod didn't show much interest in repeating or looking at the glass of his cup being hit by more. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at his hand, clutched around his crucifix. I haven't laughed in a long time. But when Nick called for his attention, he looked up.
The yelp that came from him revealed the fear of what Nick followed up his statement with, and Tod was up out of his seat a moment after. He looked down at Duval, teeth clenched and hand clenched around his crucifix with a white-knuckle grip. His eyes were wide, and he finally choked words out of his face in a cohesive fashion that allowed Nick to understand, "We-we need to do something!"
The conviction was fragile, but behind it was a well of naive, borderline idiotic hope.
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Post by relentless on Nov 24, 2017 13:15:08 GMT -8
Duval hesitated in turning his head for a moment, eventually snapping his head in Tods direction after he spoke. He straightened up, scooting out of the booth seat and standing on the other end of the table. He cocked his hip, looked down and began stroking his facial hair thoughtfully. Was he fabricating a master plan to carefully counter this threat? Was he about to lay the works of his plan right on the table from under his sleeve?
He held out an index finger toward Tod as he bent his back to pick up the bottle of wine, almost empty. Straightening himself up, he swigged the rest of the red wine down his throat before he slowly planted the wine bottle back onto the oak table with a glassy tink. Suddenly, he shot up and waggled an index finger at Tod.
"I don't have a clue, but we'll whip something up on the way. C'mon, lets see what the fuss is about, eh?"
Duval says quickly, moving past Tod and patting him on the shoulder with encouragement. He aimed for the exit of the tavern, unbuttoning his overcoat and turning around quickly, backstepping to continue his journey toward the door.
"It might just be a bonfire! Might be able to get some roasted sausages."
Duval reassured, rotating gracefully on his heel with hands slipping into crimson traced pockets, wrapping his hand around the iron handle of the tavern door.
'..-Great, now I'm hungry.'
Duval thought to himself bitterly, apparently more glum about not having food instead of the apparent attack on the hamlet.
[To the hamlet streets]
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Post by Kidney on Nov 24, 2017 13:21:39 GMT -8
Tod nodded, his eyes hardening the best he could, his anxiety kicking in as he began to unbutton the first button on his tunic. He turned, following Nick a bit too close for any comfort, "Lets hope its a bonfire."
Deep in his head, a voice nearly giggled in excitement. It gurgled like a slimy, hungry beast, and Tod grew afraid. His hand now brought the crucifix up defensively as his hand unbuttoned another button.
HAMLET STREETS WE GO
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Post by black379 on Nov 25, 2017 22:19:50 GMT -8
The jester tittered and crept out of the doorway. An unexpected sort of nostalgia filled his chest as he escaped the room where he had first met Jack. Jeanne peeked inside one last time, then his eyes lingered expectantly on the conspicuous performer. He thought himself lucky to befriend - or rather to be befriended by - someone as life-loving as Winifred.
With disregard to caution, the boy bowed himself, though not as low as Wynne, and reached for her hand. Their lithe fingers intertwined and he stood, beginning to lead her to the steps. "Who buys first? I'd better follow your l-"
A distant, but loud enough eruption cut him off. Jeanne stiffened upright, and his eyes widened like a deer's. "What's that?"
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Post by hopper on Nov 25, 2017 22:30:55 GMT -8
The girl cocked her head, ceasing her typically endless fidgeting to listen. Now that she was paying attention, she could hear more than just a boom, she could hear screams in the far distance, which drifted phantom-like on the air. There was something deeply wrong going on, she was sure of it.
"Something happened."
She stated, no question about it. Just when she was looking forward to a nice, calm day of drinking and revelry and perhaps a little bit of thievery, she was thrust into some disaster. And on her second day! What rotten luck she'd come across. Briefly, she pondered if she'd done something to offend Jack, after all what other explanation could there be for such a string of unfortunate events in a row? With a huff she went back to the window and threw it open, thrust her head out it to see if she could perhaps tell where the commotion was. It was...Fire! She could see the acrid black columns that reached into the sky like cursed obelisks.
"Oh no...Oh no! Something's happened! It's burning! Oh no! Not again!"
She thew herself back inside, landing on the ground with a thump and scuttling away from the window. Her heart tore into pieces, she couldn't handle this right now, not so soon. it'd only been what, a few months? How could she face that, she could still smell the stench of sizzling flesh and burning hair which clawed at her nostrils for weeks after she'd moved on from the scene. Lurching to her feet, she faced Jeanne again, all sense of joviality replaced with jittery nerves that pressed keenly against her small fraim, making her seem tense, as if her liquid grace had frozen.
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