The Tavern

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly swung her feet idly, watching with some satisfaction as Courcy settled in. Sleep didn't claim her as easily, after today's naps and bouts and excitement. Instead, she kept a watchful eye on the tavern's door, as well as its patrons...

There was the usual ilk that frequented the hamlet: ne'er-do-wells in rags and hoods, men in armor, fellows from the East. The familiarity was comforting, even in the face of another one of those funny bird-doctors and their cone masks. She noted a particular figure in patchwork robes with no spared degree of contempt, although she remedied the thought by reminding herself that the Crowgazer she knew didn't have those strange, tinted lenses.

Her eyes widened as she listened to her, felt the squeeze at her hand.-- she hadn't realized that Courcy had known. Albeit, it would have been an insult to the other woman's intelligence to assume that she would never learn of Roderick's fate, at least through word of mouth, especially as time went on...

"...Y-yeah."

She sat upright, her feet ceasing their swaying. Tilly was grateful that Courcy's eyes were closed as she rubbed her neck.

"Yeah." She breathed again, averting her eyes. "...Yeah, me too."

Already, she had the creeping sensation that she had dug herself a hole that she couldn't climb out from.

[black379]

Courcy breathed softly, her back arching and resting again. She sensed the pain in Tilly's short response - those few, stabbing words - and almost regretted having mentioned Roderick. She kept hold of Tilly's hand for a moment longer before pulling away. At the least, she was thankful for a friend, some mutual support.
Her arm looped around the borrowed head-rest, fluffing the satchel that she used as a pillow. faint, indiscernible images stirred in the darkness of her closed eyes. She hardly expected to sleep anymore, but before she knew it, consciousness fled from her.

[Kidney]

"So, Adonis. Why are you here in the Hamlet? Transfer? Circumstance?"
Tod asked, eyes wide and face straight, readjusting his coat subconsciously.
It was a common practice, and Sorrow poked fun at it, but it didn't give Tod a problem. Frankly he was more interested in the doctor of the Light in front of him.

[The Carrying Blade]

"I came here of my own free will of course. Wanted to make a name for myself, find some disease to cure or act to perform to make my name known. What's yours?" Adonis asked, smiling widely as he made small talk.

[Kidney]

Black Gods, he asked the question back.
Tod looked down, his mouth lowering into a small frown before he looked up again, "My...parents aren't exactly apart of my life, Adonis. I worked in the town they left me in, and I angered the Bishop a small bit. And so I was already going to be transferred to somewhere else to perform exorcisms, but then my supposed father was heading towards my hometown. He actually got there, but I was on my way out as he was arriving."
Tod rubbed the back of his neck, "They told me to come here, and so I rode to a stop where the dreaded stagecoach was currently at. Almost missed it, saddest part was having to leave Dun at the stop. I tied him to a post, saw some people untying him as I was being driven away. I hope they brushed him."
Tod's eyes had wandered during his recalling of his trip, and now he looked down again before looking up at Adonis.

[The Carrying Blade]

"Well, now that is tragic. Such a shame to never know your family, but when you do it would've been better to never have met them at all. You have my condolences." Adonis said, halfway done with his meal, not to his liking but it was better than nothing.

After a few minutes of silence Adonis had an idea. "Tod, would you like to play a game?" He asked.

[Mr. Swagwalker]

Hmpf...At least this brute has enough sense of manners to apologize... As if that'd help him. Brenton thought to himself. Although inwardly he still held a grudge he seized the opportunity to put on his usual charade of friendliness and excitement once again. "Heh heh, of course not! I am no man to hold grudges, good sir. I only appreciate a sense of humor." He paused to take a final swig out of his mug - though it was pretty much empty and so he only got a few burning drops out of it. "I was simply caught off guard, is all."

Once Tybalt had risen from his seat to leave, Brenton simply said; "Thank you for the offer, friend, but I will remain here. Business to attend, you know?"

He thought it a bit amusing that the crusader was so quick to respond to the holy call of the sermon. Almost like a dog's response to a master's call... Tsch. Typical of holy men.

Edgar looked after Tybalt as he departed. A sermon? In an abbey? It had been a while since he had taken part in any religious events. What even happened in a sermon again?

Then a realization hit Edgar. Of course. It was the same abbey which Leoman had told him to run to during the rescue attempt.
Leoman.
That poor and kind man, which Edgar had spectacularily failed. What was happening to him at this moment? Isolated imprisonment? Torture? Execution?
The memory of that brawl, akin to a cut in Edgar's mind, was fresh as it was and had now been widened further.

[Kidney]

Tod smiled wide, "Thank you for your sympathy, but it is not required. I have long since gotten over my parent's negligence."
Tod yawned wide, and soon he heard the small voice by the door talk about a sermon. He saw one man leave for it, and now his eyebrows raised and he felt sort of guilty for not going to it immediately. 
He turned back towards Adonis, now asking to play a game. "Perhaps a game can be played, depending on it's difficulty and time required to play. If it is required though, to attend this sermon, I certainly wish to be early."

[Shinzon]

Nicholas was about to reply to Ibrahim, when one of the Abbey's people opened the door to the Hamlet, rung a small bell, gathering the attention of most people, and declared a sermon was to be held. Tipping his hat toward the man of science, the soldier stood up and slung his nockgun around his shoulder once more; although, before leaving, he offered the man a handshake from his gauntlet-clad hand. "Thank you again for the note", he said hurriedly, and, should Ibrahim do take the opportunity or not, he would still hurry out of the Tavern, jogging up the Hamlet streets and to the Abbey.

[Nicholas is leaving the Tavern and directing toward the Abbey.]

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly sat in relative silence as Courcy dozed off, save for the incessant, rhythmic tapping of her fingers; flitting from desk counter to her knees, toying with the loose threading in her well-worn gloves. Perched on her barstool, she kept an anxious eye on the tavern patrons and the door. She spotted Brenton and his boy in chains, off on some distant side of the tavern, and she had a mind to approach them. If only her mind weren't swimming.

The next rush of people were quite clearly not patrons, but men in their holy garb. She sat upright, swiveling in her barstool to pivot about and face the speaker, who made some announcement or another about a sermon lead by the head of the abbey.

Tilly, naturally, knew who held that title.

She gave a nervous glance to the sleeping Courcy. She knew, herself, that she wanted-- or more needed to attend, if not for Grace's sake, but for her own. Something to brighten her spirits and take the edge off of recent events, a second wind of optimism. And she had not known Grace to be so active in ages, since the holy woman had settled from a warrior of sorts to more of a citizenly role.

It was amusing, in hindsight, how fervently against ink-work Grace was initially, only to be given a much more ink-intensive job later. She might have even smiled at the thought if there weren't more nerve-wracking subjects at hand.

The robber was keenly aware of Courcy's disposition against the church-- it was understandable. And so, as a handful of patrons filed out to attend, Tilly sat uncomfortable on her barstool, watching that hellion uneasily, caught in a limbo between waking her and subsequently breaking a hasty retreat to the abbey, or staying around with her.

[Mr. Swagwalker]

Brenton was watching over the remainder of the tavern on his own in search of a new jester of a person to amuse him. Though while his goggle-covered gaze swept over the heads of the guests he noticed one - no, two familiar faces being seated at the other end of the room.
The grin that appeared on his face beamed so much it could practically be a sun on its own. 
Bloody hell! When did they get here? How long have they been there?! he asked himself in a moment of panic, his natural mask of muscle and skin covering up the thoughts behind it. Blast, I got too distracted...This better not have damaged my professional reputation.

Brenton hopped off his stool by the counter and began to approach the pair with a bounce to his steps, dragging his scrawny accomplice along with him. Edgar simply looked around in confusion at first, unsure what had motivated the doctor this time, but soon he saw what - or rather who was ahead.
Tilly. Courcy.
The sight of the two were a relief to him. Tilly especially - she being one of a few who took pity upon him, or at least showed it. He almost felt a bit like smiling, but he decided it was not the apropriate action nor time for the occasion. Especially considering what his master was about to ask.

"Tilly! Courcy! Oh, it is so good to see your lovely faces once more!" Brenton announced enthusiastically, holding out his arms to his sides as if he was a king who was holding a great speech. His raised and hearty tone was likely enough to wake even the heaviest of sleepers. Perhaps he did it intentionally to interrupt Courcy's peaceful rest, or just generally to draw unwanted attention to the two? Though Brenton appeared happy it was more because of the fact that he may finally have something practical to do, but at least he could use his charade to start weaving a few threads of companionship. Or at least artifical ones. "I was beginning to become afraid my scruff would grow into a beard and make me trip over my own feet! What took you so long?" he asked with an eyebrow raised and tilted his head slightly, like a corvid inspecting a shiny object. "From the looks of your friend here things haven't been very well, if she had to take so much liquor she weant to the world of blurry darkness known as unconsciousness."

[black379]

The redhead stirred from her rest, glaring tiredly as she raised her head. She looked to Tilly, as if to question how long she had been asleep, though she knew it couldn't have been enough. Her body and mind were more exhausted now than when she had laid down her head. Courcy's deep eyes dragged to Brenton with tire as he rambled on.
"Ghh. Do things ever go well?"
She sat up on her elbows, sighing deeply, irritated by the interruption. Blood hadn't even seemed to have returned yet, and so it would be another eternity before they left on the heir's mission. But at least she wasn't still behind bars, or even bound in chains as Edgar.

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly gave a start, a minor flinch that was no less embarassing. Caught off-guard with her eyes at the door, she drew up another smile, almost on reflex-- albeit, it was a tad pained. Her hand moved to the brim of her hat as she sat upright, twisting it so that she could see the standing fellows a bit more clearly.

She gave a short laugh and rubbed her palms together, as if to warm them in the room already made stuffy with body-heat.

"Why, you don't need liquor to have a bad time, here!" She chuckled glibly, letting her grin fall into something more natural. She bent one leg to hook its respective bootheel on the stool's lower rung and leaned back against her elbow on the bar counter. "Ha, nay; we've had a rather trying day-- a dry one, too, at that. Best to keep your head clear before an expedition."

With a brief glance to Edgar and a small smile, she added, perhaps a touch hypocritically with her own rail-thin frame, "Speaking of: did you get around to treating your boy? Loyal servingmen like him are worth every penny, y'know."

She rolled her fingertips rhythmically over the bar counter as she consciously made to relax, letting her tense shoulders unknot,

The robber's eyes flickered, almost worriedly, to Courcy, and back again,

"But, at anyrate: did you hear about that sermon about to go on?" Her boot made light thuds on the wood floor as she tapped it, "You don't seem much of a church-man-- you academics never are."

[The Carrying Blade]

Adonis did not expect there to be a sermon so soon after his arrival, and the announcemnet of one was a surprise seeing as though he had just come from the Abbey. It irked him however, of all the times it had to be now. When he hadn't rested properly and had only just now eaten and gotten acquainted with someone.

"Nevermind the game then, pointless now. Go on ahead to the sermon I'll be there shortly." Adonis said, waving Tod off.

[The Carrying Blade]

Ellie had waited and looked over the Tavern for a while now, she had even checked his room, yet Duval was not at the Tavern. She sighed, and had thought about heading to the Abbey to sleep but the announcement of a sermon destroyed that hope. Thankfully she remembered that she had Bloods key and could simply sleep there. So she got up, headed up the stairs, and found Bloods room knocking three times. And when she recieved no answer from inside she used the key and unlocked the door, heading in and closing it behind her and then locking it back up. With a contempt sigh she laid down on the bed to sleep.