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Post by Kidney on Mar 24, 2018 22:03:01 GMT -8
Hugo seemed relieved, almost delighted. A small giggle escaped him before he cut it off abruptly, coughing internally. He paused, waiting a moment before starting again. It was quicker than last time, gloved fingers dancing across the strings lovingly, the notes drifting to Courcy's ears with a flourish as Hugo brought himself to stay quiet. He created the tune out of love. For Robin, mostly.
A tear slipped away from his eyes, dripping unnoticeable from sight, and with that, Hugo played the chords, an ever-evolving improv peace, neither a battle ballad nor an inspiring tune, but more of a Inspiring Ballad.
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Post by black379 on Mar 24, 2018 23:04:04 GMT -8
At first, as Courcy listened, it was just some tune. It was pleasant enough that, as it went on she closed her eyes. The notes were somber, yet gay, and Hugo played with such delicacy. Not as though he was afraid to harp too harshly, but as if each string were a lover's sweet spot.
His song became a sort of ambience, but not because she was bored listening to it. Rather she was open to hearing the meaning behind the notes.
"Does it... have lyrics? I wouldn't mind, if you..."
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Post by Kidney on Mar 24, 2018 23:19:25 GMT -8
Hugo smiled wide, whitish teeth shining before he plucked another set of strings, each note sounding out. He looked down at his feet, beginning to use the two bells on the ends of his feet as an actual layer. He had begun to ring out, attaching the layer to the notes, adding to the depth. He stared towards the woman, popping the bones in his neck with a quick jerk before he coughed lightly and started.
"O, lovely rose. My sweet soul. Please, do not leave me to die, in love."
With a chord, Hugo took up a succession of strumming, forfeiting silence for about a minute for the next lyric, "Rescue me! From my hopeless pining! Do not let the Heart of my Heart hurt much longer..."
He stood on his own, quieting his bells, plucking light strings. "O, lovely rose. Our sweet souls. Please, let me die, to return to my love."
He stopped, slapping the strings to a stop. "A poem, perhaps. Although the music adds significantly. It's short, sadly. But, I like it."
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Post by The Carrying Blade on Mar 25, 2018 12:07:13 GMT -8
Mithra listened intently, knowing how serious the topic was going to be, but she honestly didn’t expect it to end in just keeping a vow of silence about something she’s had experience in. She straightened herself, rolling her shoulders a small smile formed on her face, for she thought this would be something a lot more troubling. After all she expected Taas to be worse for wear, for there to be some kind of death or fatal injury.
“She is a shifter, I have seen one in this village before, heard of others. They’ve died for being uncontrollable, others leave or disappear, Taas’s secret will be safe, I do not want her dead or given misfortune. But.....” She seemed silent for a moment, the smile gone and turned into a frown as she thought of how to say this.
“But, if she loses herself to the beast, and can’t stop herself from hurting others...innocents…then I will have no choice but to end her myself. She bit your hand and almost tore it apart, so do not say that won’t happen, not even she can control it well. It’s why she said to keep it quiet, otherwise who will not try to kill an abomination like an animal that cannot be reigned in?” She reflected, letting out yet another sigh, this one filled with annoyance and a little bit of sadness.
“As for the dark one.....it is a mystery, but rude and disrespecting, I feel we need not to fear it spilling the secret.” She shrugged, not knowing what to think of the magic user other than annoyingly rude.
“Where is Taas now Villon? I wish to speak with her if she is walking now.” She said, even if she could not walk well she wanted to stay moving, get to talk with her now before she went to go rest in the Tavern again for actual sleep, and not the drug induced sleep the doctors and nurses in the Sanitarium made her do.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Mar 25, 2018 12:34:51 GMT -8
Tilly nearly skipped down the stairs, in some kind of hurry, one hand sticking her hat further down on her head while the other toyed with her coat lapels.
Her heels clicked along the cobbles, and then slowed, until she stopped.
She stared forward.
Tilly forgot what she was in such a hurry to do.
She yawned, and then rubbed her brow, thinking; she scanned the square, noting Courcy and another bard beside the statue... and she prayed that the fellow wouldn't become more of her paramours.
Some part of her wished to warn Courcy of the consequences of such dalliances.
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Post by black379 on Mar 25, 2018 12:36:34 GMT -8
Courcy chewed her lip and continued to play with her choker.
Please, let me die, to return to my love.
She hugged her arms to herself and rubbed her biceps. When the music ceased, she sighed and peeked her eyes open at Hugo.
"It's nice. Err... Thanks."
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Post by Kidney on Mar 25, 2018 12:49:53 GMT -8
He took note of her eyes pointed in his direction, and he shot a glance back, it was reverent, but also curious. He noted her presence, and struck another chord. It was a bit more tavern-turned, and indeed, Hugo was tuning. The notes became less sorrowful, but still held the low tones, although gaining the spunky twang that Smoke adored.
Hugo looked up again at Courcy, fingers working almost independently of his body, as if his mind were split in two. "Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to listen."
He looked back down, plucking many strings, a consecutive line of somber acceptance. He struck a chord lightly, creating a strange unification of soft and sharp. It was pleasant. "Another? Or do you tire of a man such as I?"
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Post by relentless on Mar 25, 2018 12:50:18 GMT -8
Non-chantly, Duval tapped the door open, aiding the push with a tap of his shoulder against the solid wood. He was still preoccupied, and planned to go back inside, he just wanted to get some fresh air whilst he memorised himself in his coin flipping. The same day-dreamy smile was stuck on his face, and he leaned against the doorpost with a kick over his feet.
"Wonder where you are... hehe..."
Duval hummed to himself, the shiver of ginger and black hair danced across the reflection of the coin he was flipping, seemingly invisible to anyone else. The man was content, and distracted. Though he felt a growing hunger wash over him, one of food, not desire.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Mar 25, 2018 12:54:44 GMT -8
Tilly heard it distantly, quirking her head as she caught the words.
She tapped her chin and approached Duval, curiosly; she knew most folk in the Hamlet, after all. She figured that she might be able to help him.
"Wonder where who is?"
Her green gaze followed the coin as it danced up and down...
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Post by relentless on Mar 25, 2018 12:58:54 GMT -8
Almost immediately after the sentence slipped into his ear, he blushed, fumbling his coin and accidentally flicking it up in the air. It spiralled in the air, almost dramatically, trying to catch it with wild and frantic swings of his hand. Thankfully, he caught the coin with his left hand, rather smoothly despite his wild flurries.
He took a pause, coughed and casually straightened himself down, turning to face Tilly with a straight face before breaking off into a smile; thumbing back.
"O-oh! Hey... Tilly is it? Was just waiting for a mate that's been fashionably late."
Duval chuckled nervously, cringing a tad before he decided to wipe away the topic.
"So, how've you been? Last time I saw yah, you's were chatting up George, hm?"
Duval chuckled, crossing his arms and prancing about where he stood, which made him look uncomfortable more than happy. The blush remained a soft rose red on his face.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Mar 25, 2018 13:22:17 GMT -8
Tilly shrugged her grimy, gore-stained shoulders; she still needed to get her clothing scrubbed after that expedition.
"Peachy." She smiled despite it, sticking her hands in her coat, satisfied. "I just finished my last expedition."
Her smile wined and her brows knitted a tad as the full meaning of the phrase hit her. She was quiet for a moment before starting again,
"But-- yeah! George! Swell fellow; needs to lay off the drink a tad." She spoke quickly, "Is that who you're waiting for?"
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Post by relentless on Mar 25, 2018 13:33:28 GMT -8
Duval nodded, smoothing his hands down anxiously into his pockets, rocking back and forth from where he stood.
"Oh yeah... George needs less drink. Been trying to order him less strong stuff lately, but eh, always goes for the hard stuff that lad!"
Duval chuckled with a lick across his teeth, sighing and looking up to the sky for a brief moment.
"Nah... I was just thinking about a certain someone... Mirela's her name. Oh, and that Grace as well. Just two wonderful people, that's all."
Duval dreamed on with a smile flickering on, but shut it down with a shake of his head before he nodded toward Tilly with a curious expression on his face; eyebrows furrowing and knitting themselves closer.
"What about you? You going to see the heir about your last paycheck, then... leave or something like that? If so, then you're one lucky bastard! Tehehehe."
He jested the last part, but he was ultimately curious about what she meant by 'last expedition'.
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Post by Kidney on Mar 25, 2018 13:49:55 GMT -8
The thump of a door, the thump of a heart.
Roard approached slowly, hefting his blade over his shoulder before catching sight of a pair. He got close, within conversational distance, throwing up a small wave. "Hello. Do the both of you know where one is to find a job in these parts?"
His voice was like that of bricks rubbing together, rough, ruined. He attempted to keep his chin down, the light helping slightly with keeping his face relatively obscured. Detail in that regard was always horrific. He liked the look of both of them, "As well as a particular reason i'm not being run out of town right now? I'm not upset, I promise, just curious." He meant that last piece as a joke, although it may have seemed serious with the damaged condition of his voice coupled with his low tone.
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Post by Boo Ghostie on Mar 25, 2018 14:02:16 GMT -8
The sound of a rattling chain resonated as Flynn marched back into the Hamlet from the graveyard. His armor dirtied from the night before, and his helmet dented from unforeseen retribution. His mind wracked with pangs of guilt and despair, however the bounty hunter once again maintained his facade as he returned to civilization. Ahead of him were two, hold on, now three individuals who were communing in the town square.
The man let out a sigh as he began to approach them. His muddied appearance not giving off the best first impressions, but what was he to do on such short notice? He had arrived to them upon earshot of Roard's question, perking up his head so he may once again play up a more cheerful demeanor.
"Heh, maybe 'is 'cause ye' make the swine folk think 'is Hamlet is populated by nuttin' but spoiled meat?" He chimed in, his tone of voice lighthearted albeit shaky with a small snivel still lingering from his bout of mourning. "I jest, lad. N' ta' answer yer' question, normally some o' the more antsy mercenaries head up to the heir for a contract. Whilst others jus' tag along when a bloke needs 'elp with one of 'em missions. Ye'll find yer'self work if ye' wait fer' the chance ta' volunteer."
Flynn looked at the two others, nodding as a silent greeting towards the two.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Mar 25, 2018 14:16:36 GMT -8
Tilly latched onto the mention of Grace, and her expression split into a grin at the mention of one of her best friends.
She was excited, "Really? Grace? Grace Nightingale? She's a close friend of mine--"
A foul combination of ruined voice and malodorous stench assaulted her senses all at once, and the hatted rogue went wan as she stopped.
'Spoiled meat,' said Flynn as she made the fatal mistake of looking Roard in the face, in all his rotted and spongy glory.
Her expression conveyed all the dismay and horror in the world, and her stomach lurched as she took a step back and promptly vomited on the toes of her boots.
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