The Tavern

[Vanitypirate]

"Ah, but it's always good to get inside the mind of an artist, isn't it?" Tilly tapped at her temple emphatically, settling into the bar table to more fully commit to viewing this art.
She rather enjoyed art, if only for its brevity; it told a story without necessitating hours of staring at text on a page.

With a careful hand, she slowly flipped through the sketches. It took no stretch of the imagination to guess why Stafford was here, now; if he was looking to capture flaws, he would find no short supply in this Hamlet.

"You're very good!" Tilly was delighted, although that was the unlearned limit to the critique she could offer. "If I ever own a wall or two, I'll remember the good Stafford!"

[Outisakanobody]

Tazia hadn't managed to find any loose bottles, and so she was forced to brood with a dry throat. Peering around the tavern from below her hat and saw a woman and man conversing. She huffed to herself and heaved out of her of her chair, keeping her lute close but stowing it descreatly under her cape. Taking a moment to straighten herself out, she carefully strode over to Tilly and Stafford and made her introductions.

"Pardon, I find myself in desperate in need of some intelligent human contacts and I was hoping the two of you would entertain the thought?" she says, trying to sound as polite and unassuming as possible and giving a winning smile to the two.

[porkylabrador]

"I would say that largely depends on the artist in question..." Stafford chuckled, nervously biting his lower lip and rubbing the back of his head with his tanned paw.

"Oh... hah, my thanks I s'pose!" It was clear for all his banter and bravado, when it came to his 'doodles' the fellow was near enough incapable of taking a compliment. He moved to his table and perched on his seat, leaving Vic to her business which sure enough by this point was well underway. "As many as two walls? You may as well ask for household staff!"

He cocked an eyebrow at the second newcomer and tilted his head, not unlike that of a confused dog. "Intelligent conversation, I'll not speak for Tilly-sans-the-miss here but you'll find that in short supply on my part..." He chuckled again, it was good to hold a conversation with someone who didn't bark back. His digits play with an unlit cigarette.

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly's eyes flicked between the mask of the approaching woman and the sketches on the table. It was as if she could not decide where she would like to stare at most-- which was more the spectacle?

In the end, she decided it was more polite, at least, to stare the woman in the mask.

"I can't promise intelligent conversation, but it certainly won't be boring!" She nodded, fixing her tall hat on her head so that the motion wouldn't topple the poor thing over. She inquired, as per protocol to someone so uniquely dressed,

"So what's with the mask?"

[Outisakanobody]

"You don't strike me as dullards so far. And as for the mask, they're all the rage in Tuscany." Tazia says with a melodious laugh. "I admire your sense of style as well." she adds to Tilly with a tip of her own hat to the other hatted woman.

"My my! Which of you is the artist?" She asks, spying the artwork on the table and looking them over.

[porkylabrador]

Stafford wasn't overly impressed with the mask himself but he'd hung around enough placed and met enough types to refrain from what could be called 'artistic expression' so he kept his mouth shut. His own clothes looked frighteningly mundane in comparison, save for the tarnished silver of his pocket-watch chain.

"I prefer 'doodler extraordinaire' but... ahem, I'm the so-called artist in question, for my sins."

[Vanitypirate]

"Ah, this old thing? S'hardly a style!" Tilly jested with exaggerated humility, smiling as she ran a thumb beneath her coat lapels, smoothing them. Due to the overall patchwork nature of the coat, however, it did little to spruce up its appearance.

"He's quite good! Generous, too" She rubbed her hands together as she shamelessly embellished, "Even serves a Queen Victoria!"

[Outisakanobody]

"I should be lucky to be in such robust company." Tazia says as she continues smiling. Appreciating that these two weren't recoiling from her presence. "Can I hazard a guess that our furry friend there is Victoria?"

[porkylabrador]

"Oh lady, my patron, my monarch! Long may she reign." Stafford said reclining into his seat, legs crossed and rested at the heels upon the table, casually he fanned his tricorn in the pooches direction.

"Bah, Tilly-sans-the-ms is being awfully generous with the flattery. Take any of them you might want though, I should imagine I'll have tipped a few into a nearby bin by tomorrow."

[Vanitypirate]

"Lucky bin." Tilly hummed appreciately.
Though, the sketches were free, after all; she leaned into the book, flipping the pages.
"Yes, that's the lovely Victoria." She confirmed, a touch absent-mindedly as she perused through the book. She stopped upon a scene of the Thames, large, ramshackle, urban buildings, and pairs of mudlarks sifting about on the bank.

It was just as she remembered it.

"Think I'll take this one on with me." She tapped a long finger at it, "Before you go and give it up to the bins."

[Outisakanobody]

"Hmm...I couldn't possibly take any of this without having a place to put it first. It would certainly get ruined." Tazia says, looking over Tilly's shoulder. "That one strikes you?" she asks as she takes in the picture. Tilly would smell the scent of roses on Tazia as she got close.

[porkylabrador]

It was always nice to have one's work appreciated, Stafford liked that piece, at least as much of as someone who self-deprecated about his own work as much as he did could. "Oh yes, it's all yours..." He fanned his hand again towards the stack of drawings. "Free of charge and all that, call it compensation for the bone... oh and, uh, speak of the devil..."

Victoria, now noticeably without bone and an even more noticeable bloated tum, panted and padded her way back to her master's presence that she might have the comforting cushion of his proximity. Promptly, she beached herself like a whale with an audible 'harrumph' of effort against the floorboards.

"That was the day I actually met my partner in crime here." He smiled with unmistakable fondness down at his bruiser of a best friend. It's the fondest part of the day that I recall. "You as well, Mask, the one's that aren't taken find their way to gutters and forgotten corners, besides if you take them, I'd call it free advertising." Habitually, Stafford put his feet back on the floor, Victoria had her pillow.

[black379]

Jeanne Luc stumbled to his feet as his shirt was tugged. Though once he was upright, he followed Winifred easily enough. He was thankful to be out of the commotion.

The boy shrugged off Wynne's grip from his sleeve, and took her hand instead for her to lead. He bit his lip, looking up to the stairway, then to the bottle in Winifred's other hand, then to the red scar on her hip.

-

Griswold stood slowly and excused himself as well. He lumbered after them rigidly, resembling a machine more than a man. In the confines of his mask, he was a casual observer. The leper could spot all the nuanced interactions that were never offered to him.

Yet this time, he would not be shut out. He had to see Jeanne safe, especially after what had happened earlier in the day.

[hopper]

Her eyes met Duval’s as he strode past and she just managed to catch his covert message before he swaggered towards the stairs and disappeared up them. She looked back to Jeanne and then to their hands entwined between them and she couldn’t stop a small, genuine smile from sprouting through the layers of faux cheeriness she’d applied when making her exit. But now that they were leaving, she began to allow the facsimile to slough off, like a wet cloak falling to the ground with an unceremonious ‘phump’ As they passed the artist, now currently engaged with the tall-hatted woman Winnifred had been seeing around but had yet to speak to, she called.
“Hope you got my good side!”
Sticking her hand into the air to give the man a thumbs up and a toothy grin for the few seconds before she and Jeanne Luc reached the stairs.

Climbing up them she gave Jeanne’s hand a squeeze, a relieved giggle escaping her lips.
“Whew, glad to be out of there.”
She grinned, first to Jeanne and then to Duval as he appeared at the top of the stairs. She was vaguely aware of Griswold behind her but she was unsure if she should say anything,m so far her social graces had largely seemed to go unnoticed or else rebuffed by the hulkling golem of cloth and steel. Idly she pondered if sticking a scroll in his mouth would do much more than make him mad and she barely stifled a chortle at the thought.

[Vanitypirate]

"Mhm. It's quite lovely, this."

The roses were a pleasant change in comparison to the usual musk of the Hamlet's denizens, but Tilly figured that to compliment her thusly would be a touch too friendly for a stranger...
But she was curious; if the masked woman was one for perfumes, then Lekalis might find himself making a friend.

With care, Tilly rolled up the sketch loosely, so as to not wrinkle it when she stowed it in her satchel. With even more care, Tilly gave a small step away from the dog, who she preferred to appreciate from afar, out of biting range...

"How'd you meet her, anyways? Mudlarking?"