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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 31, 2017 23:38:27 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"I am!" He agreed, the social stigmas taking a moment to catch up to him as his arms flared out halfwise; before they curled inwardly, a bit awkwardly, as he resorted to finding some unseen dirt beneath his nails that suddenly warranted attention.
"Ah, well... Sorry things took so long. The Schwarz family are... throwing a party!" He whispered ecstatically, leaning forward a touch intimately and scooting a bit closer to her from his table-bound seat.
"... Seems you were stirring up quite your own here? Glad to see you're finding yourself again." He smiled and lightly pushed her arm for emphasis as he made to rise, brushing off his thighs...
\\
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Post by Vanitypirate on Dec 31, 2017 23:46:19 GMT -8
"I met some local artists! An actress and an... artist, that does art-- drawings and the like." Tilly admired his frame a moment, scanning him over; he looked unhurt.
"You certainly smell like you've been at a party." She brushed a hand along his shoulder, as though to lead him outside of the tavern, while she cupped the other in front of her mouth as she gave a yawn, the fatigue of a long night beginning to catch up to her...
She thought longingly of the bread still in her satchel.
"Did you find any more holes in the walls?" She made way to the tavern door and pulled it open for the both of them to pass through.
"And s'the expedition all set up, or do we still need to do a supply run?"
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Dec 31, 2017 23:53:03 GMT -8
/Lekalis/ "We can fetch some supplies on our way to or from the party, take your pick..." He chuckled as he ran an unabashed hand through his inkish locks, as he found her admirous gaze. He likewise, mimicked her yawn; if but to stretch and comb his fingers briefly and quietly through her hair. Minding to slip his digits free if he ran into a knot. He cleared his throat, at the door as he began step through, "Ah, there was another breach in one Raymond's domain; in his cellar... The Dark must've swept him and Hans up in one fell swoop." He mused; not particularly appalled but most certainly not pleased. More an unfortunate event, should his tone imply anything at all. "We arrived too late, it would seem... Blood on the floor, or wine. Er; the substance, mind." He chuckled as he flinched at the dawning air, feeling a more real yawn come to the fore; he did his best to stifle it, though his eyes wattered all the same... \Lekalis and Tilly Depart to Misc. Buildings\ |
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Post by Kidney on Jan 2, 2018 16:46:25 GMT -8
Hugo found himself silent now, for Winifred had truly perplexed him. His eyes slowly rose, the makeup covering his eyelids and area around them slowly slipping back. His sclera were white as snow, and he sighed.
His feet made a ruckus, no longer a musical companion. They rung out, and Hugo cursed at his own feet. He was bringing attention to himself. His hands plucked at strings, but they were disconnected and futile to escape the awkward situation. A giggle escaped the abyss within Hugo's own mind, Smoke's melted laugh slipping into the back of Hugo's skull.
He slipped the pick against the strings, a semi-decent chord echoing across Hugo's little section of the bar. He sat at this place, quietly humming a tune to himself, tapping a ringing foot, running over the situation that just happened within the depth of the folds of his mind.
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Post by relentless on Jan 2, 2018 18:23:18 GMT -8
Duval clicked his tongue and waggled two finigers at the both of them, a rather exaggerated smile brewing on his five o' clock shadow cheeks.
"Don't worry! It's a... 'fun' type of interesting."
Duval hummed with mild excitement brewing, bringing his left hand to stroke his sharp facial.
"Tis a little something a picked up back in in my... golden chicken coop. It'll sit you two well, being an adorable couple."
Duval added, before his eyes slowly abated Wynnes and moved to Jeannes, passing a humoursom wink and chuckle to follow.
"I'll go fetch your wedding rings."
Duval cackle, before them goodbye with a nonchalant whisk of his heel and noble-like wave as he moved toward his room.
He worked deftly on the lock, perhaps too quickly. His wrists, which he hid under his overcoat, were sweating rather profusely. Thankfully the mans exsessive perfume managed to hide his sweat, brewing and sprouting like pus from his skin. He turned the key in the lock, and walked inside with the utmost casual nature. Turning around on heel,he pushed the door close.
'I didn't...'
Duval thought to himself, his body almost falling forward against the door, his forehead pressed against the wood with a hard,unhealthy thud. Hands reached up to the grain, and gripped it there, shaking his head in place as he contemplated a looming madness that he found hard to cage in his human skull.
"S-stop..."
Duval whispered to himself, a whimper almost, remaining silent against the solid oak door as he tried to compose himself.
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jan 2, 2018 18:40:37 GMT -8
Tazia figured things had just about dried up in the tavern, so she decided to go have a wander about the hamlet.
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Post by black379 on Jan 4, 2018 7:53:54 GMT -8
"We're not-..." Jeanne Luc began to protest, but Duval had already taken his leave. The boy unbound his arms from Winifred and offered a quirky, embarrassed smile. There was no hiding some intimacy between them. It was odd, though more welcome than anything, to find someone to explore his curiosities with - Someone who he would not be judged to be seen with, ironically enough.
-
A tinny chortle, almost more like a whimper, rose from Griswold. He strode past them, already headed for the doorway Wynne had designated as her own. "Funny, isn't it? The two of you."
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Post by hopper on Jan 4, 2018 11:43:08 GMT -8
“I’ll take mine in silver!”
She called after the long-coated man, a goofy smile spread across her own face. She gave Jeanne Luc a peck on the cheek and strolled after Griswold, the hefty bottle still in her hand.
“What do you mean funny?”
She asked of the large figure as they neared the room. She got the impression that the golem wasn't very impressed with her and wasn't very pleased with her being quite so fond of Jeanne Luc, although it would take more than merely his disapproval to get her to leave. She found Jeanne Luc himself to be comforting in a strange way, some sort of pivot around which she could swing freely without that terror of being flung out into the void, lost in a lonely free fall like she’d been for the past few months. It would take something pretty severe to sever her connection to the boy now, especially considering the sheer terror that rose in her throat when she considered returning to isolation.
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Post by relentless on Jan 4, 2018 13:32:58 GMT -8
Pressed against his own door, hunched over and sweating, he would breath quick and sparsely, as if the air itself was being drained from the room. His fingers curled against the wooden grain of the door, brow furrowed and eyes shut tight.
"Didn't do it, I swear..."
He said to himself in denial, the voices, the foul and misleading voices filling his mind once again with their lewd utterances. Bawling their cries of malicious lust.
Very violently, would his stomach gurgle, and he pushed himself off the door and walked quickly to the window at the otherside of the room that faced the ancestors statue. He pushed the handle down, and practically shoved the window open as he was violently sick outside of the window. Vomit of dark green disgust would rain down upon a small area of mud, Duval retched, and retched... unable to stop the flow. It would last for about 30 seconds with occasionally pauses to give him false hope that it was over, before his last meal came raining down from the window.
Once he was done, he took deep, raspy breaths to control himself. His face was clearly distraught, and his eyes wild with that of disbelief, and shame.
"N-not true, not true..."
Duval reinformed himself, roughly ripping his overcoat off, various buttons falling to the floor as he took it off quickly, and threw it to his bed. Eventually, he took strides toward a small bucket beside his bedside table, kneeling down and cupping water in his hands. The man would splash the water on his face, to regain composure, and then take a glass from atop his bedside table; flicking out any remainder of alcohol and pooling it in the bucket. Desperately would he guzzle the water, taking about three glasses worth of water and swallowing it.
The glass would be placed on the floorboards, and he sat sprawled out beside his bed, both hands over his face, rubbing it slowly.
"Ne-nev..."
He choked, and stifled tears, taking deep breathes to eventually regain his sense of calm.
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Post by black379 on Jan 22, 2018 11:05:20 GMT -8
Jeanne looked between her partners: the musician, her bedmate and the leper, her friend. She offered a red-faced grin, nervously expecting a scolding from Griswold. And nervous still to be so friendly with Winifred after such a short time. The boy was glad at least to be someplace more private than the tavern, and he helped the door open.
-
Griswold chuckled again, a sharp wheeze that hardly sounded amused. He waited until the three of them were secluded to answer.
"A girl who acts as a boy. Both of you sapphists, but no one would suspect." His wheezy laugh continued as he ambled further in the room.
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Post by Kidney on Jan 31, 2018 21:45:54 GMT -8
There was a very unusual sound from the bar before Hugo took it towards the back. His stare permeated the air as he secluded himself away, a little giggle slinking from his lips as the fingers of Smoke slowly tuned the lute in his lap. The section of time this took to do would be long, so Smoke slowly pulled the light-blue porcelain grin over Hugo's scarred face.
He covered the broken man, or so the self-loathing oaf had told them both within the depths of those dreams spent in the husk of a house. Another giggle, one of a masochistic quality, slipped forth at the thought. He slowly tightened a string, attempting to salvage the quiet time with a bit of a humming.
This one, he felt, he could commit to. It was slow and soulful, but carried a tune of puppy-like awe. It rippled through the corner of the Tavern, and as he continued to tune, he looked upon a half-drunken mug of ale. Perhaps one someone had left.
Smoke giggled again, grabbing it, placing it near his foot. He continued the hum, a little brass bell on the end of his foot occasionally tapping it, like a strange imitation of a triangle. He continued this as the humming built into a quiet phrase, before devolving back into humming, "My maiden lies swept across the sands..."
There was a sing-songish nature to it, drawn out, slow, a lover's song.
Damned Hugo and all his "love".
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Post by azmoham on Feb 5, 2018 20:05:27 GMT -8
The girl offered her larger, metal-clad compatriot a bemused look as they passed into the room. It felt a lifetime away that she’d left this room earlier, and sporting a suite of new wounds to lick, as well as a few newly-minted companions with which to do so, she was wordlessly relieved their return to the meager sanctity. It was dark, with the shutters drawn and the candle sitting on the bedside table long since extinguished. Moving immediately to the bed, she flung herself upon it belly-first. Clambering to her knees, removed her instrument from where it hung against her back and, made to sit on the edge of the bed and sat the wooden object on the floor beside her feet. She leaned down and began to unlace her boots, and when the act was done, kicked them towards the wall where they landed with a ‘whump’. Stretching languorously, she arched her back, eliciting several sharp ‘pops’ before doing the same with her neck, and knuckles. Seemingly finished, she drew her feet back up on the bed and set them so one leg rested atop the other, like a buddhist monk in prayer, and smiled brightly at the doorway and Griswold and Jeanne Luc followed her.
“Glad to see you’re quite so tickled, and here I was worried you had something against me.”
Though done under the guise of the a joke, some vague air of her still lingering discomfort with the man could be felt if one had the presence of mind to do so.
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Post by black379 on Feb 20, 2018 19:39:15 GMT -8
Jeanne shuffled her feet, slinking towards the bed. She would have liked to throw herself upon it, as Winifred had, or even upon Winifred. But uncomfortable as she still was with her sudden romantic involvement, the jester was even more timid around Griswold.
Chewing on her upper lip, she mosied slowly, apparently appreciating the challenge of balance from her binge of drink.
-
"Not against you." The leper replied quickly enough. He remained still, just inside the door, though he watched Winifred intently as she kicked off her boots and curled her legs on the bed.
"Jeanne is the fool." Griswold scolded, glaring through the dark slits of his mask at the girl before his squinty gaze resettled on Wynne. The irony was his jealousy - that his friend could afford to be foolish in some affair.
"But... if you hurt her..." He left the threat unfinished, so that the musician might dream up her own horrors.
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Post by azmoham on Mar 2, 2018 14:19:19 GMT -8
"Steady there Jeanne, wouldn't wanna make it all the way up all those stairs just to fall flat on your face now eh?"
She quipped good-naturedly, before turning her robust smile on the leper. It was strange to find those so like herself within such a short time of her entrance, but she dare not question it lest her new-found acquaintances vanish like smoke.
Like fire...
A small voice whispered, and for a second she swore she could smell ash and burned meat. She wrinkled her nose for a moment at the illusionary olfactory assault before forcing her features smooth, keeping a slightly unsteady smile on her face as she rebalanced herself.
"Aren't we all, tinman?" She asked ruefully, an almost sardonic twist to her features, but they flashed off again and she was left with her customary cheerful beam.
"Well, either way its good to know you have my back."
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Post by black379 on Mar 7, 2018 22:27:29 GMT -8
"Mm." Griswold paced deeper into the room, toward the nearest seat. He knew he would never join the ladies in the bed. "Truthfully, I should be thanking you. Whatever happened out there..."
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"What did happen?" Jeanne piped up as she finally knelt on the edge of the mattress. Easing into comfort around them, she tugged the cap from her head and shook her wavy locks.
"Can I see your scars?" It might have been an excuse to lay her eyes on more of Winifred, but she was sure someone needed to take a look anyways. Wynne made it out to be no big deal, but Jeanne Luc wasn't sure she believed that.
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