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Post by Shinzon on Jul 24, 2017 15:35:28 GMT -8
"No man can control it", said Nicholas bluntly, before staring into Ibrahim's eyes with a piercing gaze. "Although you seem familiar enough with the subject."
He let the sentence sink in for a moment, smoking from his pipe, before looking away from the man and sighing. "Believe what you desire. The Light has little jurisdiction over the study of dark powers, after all - but heed my advice, sir. The way to Hell is paved with good intentions."
With that, he fell silent, closing his able eye and enjoying the peace, before groaning and extinguishing his pipe, carefully putting it back in its refined wooden box. "Out of tabacco", he said with a huff.
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Post by stealthclaw on Jul 24, 2017 16:19:50 GMT -8
Fen had followed Mordecai like a shadow, listening intently to his story as he spoke. Ah, a spear to the kidney was definitely not good. She had a hand to her beaked mouth before nodding.
"Ah, yes, I can understand how terrible that situation must have been. "How did you deal with such an injury, bleeding from within? Would you suture it like a normal wound? Or were other measures taken?" She asked, climbing up onto the empty stool after Mordecai sat down. Fen was lightly confused, as she had never had any sort of liquor before. She wondered how such a concoction tasted. It was fermented wheat, was it not? She supposed she would find out. It took her a few moments of thought before realizing she needed to take her mask off. Well, that much made sense. Carefully, she reached into the back of her hood so she could pull the clasp, releasing the sturdy mask from her face. Her youth was definitely apparent now, clearly stated by her softer features. Round cheeks and brown, almost chocolate eyes, unmarred by shadows or bags there under.
Fen's hair was black and shoulder length, soft, and carefully kept within a ponytail at the nape of he neck. There were very faint marks around her jawline from the plague doctor mask, showing just how tight the thing was. She had to protect her skin from any assailant, be it disease, or embers, or even other being's blood.
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Post by TheSilentRevenant on Jul 24, 2017 17:05:48 GMT -8
[Behind the Bar]
Hook grunts as he lifts up another barrel of ale and plants it on the main rack. He hooks a Stein by its handle and begins to clean it with a cloth. Once it was cleaned and fresh he'd set it down and start cleaning another glass, repeating the process till he had all available glasses cleaned. He'd then set up another barrel of ale and go into the back to grab a few bottles of more potent liquors. Which he brings in by pairs of twos and sets them on the first shelf below the main deck of the bar.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Jul 24, 2017 19:17:41 GMT -8
By the time everyone had done their little shtick and regular talk continued, Adonis had gotten his food and spied Tod. Despite blood stained hands he decides to take a seat at where Tod was at, wanting a little familiarity no matter how small.
"Hello there again! You seem a little off friend, did somethingn happen in the short time we were apart?" He asked, his voice calm despite the apparent shakiness he had about him.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 24, 2017 19:41:50 GMT -8
It was a dull, quiet pain that persisted as Tod squeezed the mug, he didn't want to drink it.
But he wanted to drink it.
Adonis saved him from another sip of the weak, foul tasting ichor that lay in his cup. His questions came upon alert ears, despite Tod hearing his own heartbeat in them. He looked up, "Hello, Adonis."
His face betrayed no sadness, but the happiness seen at the top of the Abbey stairs was gone with the wind of his own words, shot out at Blood.
He didn't deserve that.
It took Tod a small bit to regain a straight back and appear at least half alive, "Ah, nothing of significance really. Mostly just been sitting here. Sun went down and now I sit."
His voice was a bit far away, his attention was focused on Adonis, but something kept taking split-seconds of focus away from Tod, as if he had been addressed.
"You know Adonis,"
Tod took another pause, the Voice Of Sorrow echoed from within the reaches of his mind, he isn't your shrink. He'll walk away, and we'll be alone again.
She was demeaning, and for a moment Tod's mouth hung agape, before he shook his head and kept speaking.
"You know the feeling when your brain feels like it's against your goals? That voice in the back of your head just doesn't approve of any decision you're making?"
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Post by black379 on Jul 24, 2017 21:39:11 GMT -8
"Right..."
Courcy heaved emphatically, and let her shoulders sag. Her eyes shone with longing, but they fell away from Tilly's and she finally gave in to her exhaustion. She rested her head on the robber's satchel, which produced only slightly more comfort than if she were to settle her head on the wood surface of the bar itself.
She shifted in the seat and closed her eyes to invite sleep, though her troubled mind drove it away. Small comforts, glimpses of happiness, she couldn't live for - too much stubborn guilt plagued her. She was greedy for tangible love, physical fulfillment, a shared belonging. So a night slouched at the bar was hardly any satisfaction, yet she was jealous of her friend's strength, to smile anyways.
"I'm sorry. About R-roderick."
Her voice was soft, apparently she was close to submitting to sleep. The ginger reached to take Tilly's hand, offering a firm though short squeeze.
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Jul 25, 2017 7:20:05 GMT -8
"I do. To be frank I used to have that happen a lot when I was younger. Talked to my father about it, and being as smart and understanding as he was he said this to me. Listen to your heart, and you will achieve what you want. Listen to your brain, and you will achieve what you can. But listen to both, and you will achieve what you need. Do not let doubt make you pick one over the other." Adonis said, being happy to share his fathers wisdom to others. It helped himself forget what had troubled him before. |
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Post by rumsztyk on Jul 25, 2017 12:06:27 GMT -8
He neither confirmed nor denied the accusation, merely nodding and replying in an unconvincing manner. "Yes, I suppose that every effort eventually leads to failure and corruption... This does not mean one should not try, and strive for perfection." He added that last bit with a bit more conviction in his voice. "But, that is not my area of expertise. My studies are purely theoretical." He assured, once again his voice proving to be calm and devoid of emotion.
"What would you say about the people gathered here, from various ways of life? Such vast diversity is nowhere to be found, except here. As a seasoned warrior, you must have crossed your path with many." He seemed to show genuine interest in the matter.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 25, 2017 13:05:57 GMT -8
Tod looked up, a quiet look of contemplation on his face. It soon turned into a small smirk, "That's good."
He appreciated Adonis's words, Tod frankly couldn't feel much right now. His head was thankfully free of most of his voices, but they would come back. Criticizing every action, every word.
"Thanks for sharing that memory with me, it's...eye-opening"
He chuckled, and clutched the mug a little less hard.
"I should remember it."
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Jul 25, 2017 14:18:22 GMT -8
"My father did have a way with words, it's how he got my mother to be his wife after all." Adonis said laughing, moving finally to remove his mask so he could eat. He reached behind his head and released the clasps that held it together, removing his mask from his face where he then set it on the table to his right. Where Tod would be able to look at every bit of it.
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Post by Kidney on Jul 25, 2017 14:28:21 GMT -8
Tod looked over at the mask, it caught his eye, but Tod frankly didn't know what it's purpose was. Perhaps it filtered something? Or maybe it hid his identity from those he didn't wish it to be found out by?
Those thoughts did not need an answer, Tod decided, he sat in silence, finally unclasping his hands from the mug. They shook as he stretched out his fingers, the scabs flexing as much as they could, and flakes of dried blood came off his fingers. They left stains in their wake.
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Post by lightningfast on Jul 25, 2017 18:24:07 GMT -8
Mordecai nods to Fen. “Well, suturing can only do so much. In truth, I had to remove his kidney myself. You can live with only one, you see. Gave him some painkillers, disinfected the wound with some alcohol, sewed it up and sent him on his merry way.” That was the short version of the conventional way of doing things.
Mordecai neglected to mention the part where he had stabbed the offending brigand in the throat with a surgical knife and used him as a blood sacrifice to bring his ally back from the brink of death. Thankfully, the ally was too thrilled about being saved to care about the blood magic. This sort of appreciation was rare, but such was the life of a warlock-doctor. “There are some more... unorthodox ways to heal such injuries, but they take years of mastery, and a particularly strong connection with the Light. I’ve experimented with such tactics, though my skill is... limited, to say the least.”
Truthfully, he was a bit shocked at how youthful his new companion was as he paid two silver for two mugs of rich ale. "You're barely past girlhood," he muses, "You must be a prodigy, then!"
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Post by stealthclaw on Jul 25, 2017 19:32:34 GMT -8
Fen was listening intently to his story as he continued, looking over at his comment. She looked a little flustered, like she was unsure of how to take the remark. Yes, she was definitely young to be in her line of work. Just how old was she?
"My teacher said I'd be a full-fledged adult in two years time. I've been training under him since I was at least fourteen." Fen replied halfheartedly, looking away. "Meeting him had been mere chance. I was sent away from my home after it fell to a sickness and he happened upon me in the forest. After checking to make sure I wasn't sick as well, he took me under his wing. It's been non-stop training and learning since then. Gaveston, my teacher, always told me practice makes perfect. If not perfect, close to it as possible."
Fen adjusted her smooth black hair, tugging on it either thoughtfully, or nervously. "I played with these volatile powders he had purchased from a trader. His goal was to make some sort of dreadfully stunning item, exploding in a hail of gas or dust, but with my tampering, I ended up creating nothing short of some incendiary trap. I have the recipe for it, but the last time I attempted to create it, I uh--suffered the consequences of it not being fully prepared."
The younger woman beside him pulled off one of her thick gloves, showing off the terrible burn scars that enveloped her left hand. "While I may be good with diseases and ailments, I am far from good with anything else, as you can see."
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Post by TheSilentRevenant on Jul 26, 2017 6:10:35 GMT -8
[Hook]
The Bartender mumbles to himself as he walks back into the kitchen again and discusses tonight's meal specials with the cook. As he walks back out with a clean cloth which he slings over his shoulder he leans against the bar, his back to the rest of the tavern. He grabs the dirty rag from the bar top, then he subtly drools a glob of spittle onto his hook and takes the patches of clean spots on the dirty rag and cleans his cherished hook.
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Post by righteouscrusader on Jul 26, 2017 15:17:14 GMT -8
Tybalt stifled a chuckle and cleared his throat. "Hook? I'm sure he's harmless." He finishes his drink and drops a few coins on the bar for Hook. The hooked bartender scoops up the coins and grunts towards Brenton, "Oi no 'ard feelings eh? Just a joke to lighten up these gents. The Light knows they need it." Hook turns towards Tybalt. "Speakin' o which, them holy men and women came in earlier. Sermon in the Abbey. Thought you crusader types might want tah know." He walks away. Tybalt turns to Brenton. "I'll be at the Abbey if you would like to join me." Tybalt heads for the door.
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