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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jan 17, 2018 20:08:46 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"... But... you want to do this, right..?" He asked sincerely, intensely as he held her hand with doubly severe pensiveness. Offering a small comradic sway, though nothing so mindlessly blissful.
His gaze drifted over to the smoothed coat lapel, and gave it an overly mournful look, before glancing up to Tilly with a half-quirked smile and frown, as he nodded towards the rise which would bring them off the grey sanded beach.
"... You're not alone in anything you don't wanna be, Tills."
The Ex-Lord presumed motion, and began off one step after the next, across the beach; leaving footprints in the sand, the haunting impressions and reminder of the utterly temporary nature of such delighted memories.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jan 17, 2018 20:28:58 GMT -8
"If I had it my way," Tilly began with a smile as she kicked the sand in front of her with the toe of her boot and a flourish, inciting a small plume of grey sand at the touch,
"I'd be off killing big bad evils in the dungeons and, without a single scratch on me, I'd drag back riches beyond my wildest dreams for my dear husband and home-- with, maybe, a few good parties here and there with a few good people."
Her expression sombered a touch, and her gaze dunk to her boots momentarily-- a small lull before plucking on again, as usual: she strode onward, forward.
"I've gotten quite good at making do. So I'll make do." She shrugged again, in finality with the statement as her boots struck against the cobbles, leaving the sands and the steel-grey ocean behind them.
"I'll go and find something more sustainable than just camping in scary buildings and forests and things. Something that won't eventually get me killed."
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jan 17, 2018 20:37:13 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
He scoffed giving her a long sour take before chuckling and devolving to a smile as he nudged her with his shoulder, looking down to her boots again to match her stride, he scarcely noticed the shift from sand to cobblestones.
"I'm sure we can still have some good parties with some good people." He assured, giving her a cocky wink,
"I was a Lord, y'know."
Lekalis' steps became bolder with ever stone passed, and he felt his chest swell; though his hand became more dancey, he pulled it closer between them, enough to veil it in his cloak at the least.
"Though, I imagine our demesne may still be a scary building for quite the while... Rome wasn't built in a day and all that." He sighed a bit forlornly, before shrugging,
"But, I've already gotten a good sapper to work on the groundworks of the building. At the very least, we'll have a cozy little hole to... Enjoy our company."
He hummed sweetly, the last, as he leaned over and kissed Tilly's cheek lightly, before civilization and society could impress its judgement upon them.
The corners became more and more familiar as they drew nearer and nearer to the Schwarz' sanctuary.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jan 18, 2018 15:52:51 GMT -8
Tilly smiled, squeezing her fingers about his hand momentarily before shedding them as the houses became denser and denser, closer to the safer, albeit tragically odorous body of the hamlet.
But as she listened, and she made the mental calculations, her eyes widened,
"During the raid?" She quirked her head in some amazement, "That's... rather excellent multitasking, I'd say!"
The hand that parted from his righted her hat on her head once again, tilting the weathered thing far back against her face. She beamed with a bright, giddy smile; the future prospects did well to lift her spirits of the nightmare and worse, the impending domestic work.
"Imagine that: we'll have a roof over our heads that we own. Even if it's just groundworks..." Satisfied, she eyed one of the surrounding shacks, as though to picture it as her own. "No more having to climb over tavern-folk to ask Hook for a room. Think the fellow'd miss us?"
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jan 18, 2018 21:15:56 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
"Hook? Miss us?" He scoffed incredulously, albeit jokingly as he flaffed his hand at her and nudged her shoulder with his own;
"... Depends if we can really do without his superb delicacies." He could barely hold back his own cringe at the emphasized word, accenting it horribly as he chuckled and shook his head, running a hand through his gentle locks.
"But, ah, yes... Met him during the raid; bonds of comradarie and all that." The Ex-Lord sported a wholesome grin and planted fist to palm with a reaffirming nod, as he rounded a corner and spied the Schwarz demesne before them, rooted as it always was. At this point of the morning, he wasn't sure as to the state or liveliness of the party. He'd seen many festivals last for days on end, though they were in much better positions to do so.
The position being one of utter stark and grim demeanour; Life and Death balanced on the Dark's edge. It was enough to wan Lekalis smile a touch, his features pulling into a look of contemplation.
"Borovoi was his name, I believe... Eastern-ish fellow--" A small smile arose as he looked over to Tilly,
"-- Reminded me of my peasants past." Lekalis japed, though there was some forlorn sincerity in his eyes as he cleared his throat and looked on to the Schwarz house.
"... Really though; how good are you at cooking? T'will help to know if I have needs of a chef."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jan 21, 2018 20:22:07 GMT -8
"Terribly efficient. Imagine how lovely it'd be if everything went like that, hm?" Tilly poised with a glance up to the graying sky. "To go and meet people during combat; s'like trimming your nails and combing your hair at the same time. Assuming you're good at multitasking in that regard, I suppose."
Tilly stowed her hands away in her coat, once again, for more comfort than warmth, lips curling in some amount of distaste:
She had gone through great lengths to avoid too much time in hot, stuffy, kitchens-- greater lengths than her Margerie made to force her into the task, instead choosing to pick different battles.
It was a startling fact: she had always paid to have it prepared by others' hands, or she had taken it from them. While the latter was far cheaper, it was also far more... unsustainable.
A happy medium of both would be to do it for herself, but at the cost of cloistering herself in the home for the next years...?
She suddenly felt much more sick to her stomach.
"Hm... I'll have to learn."
The shack looming ahead with its vibrant noise and stench she could smell even from the outside, as they approached, made her loathe to enter. So she lingered, and looked to Lekalis,
"I'll wait out here, then?"
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jan 21, 2018 21:10:42 GMT -8
/Lekalis/
Stopped now, a fair distance from the Schwarz' shack, he moved to face Tilly; back towards its windows as he let his arms rest loosely on his hips, then leant forward, eyes darting down to her hands and then her eyes with pursed lips and a look more like an amused cat's than a smiling man's.
"I'm sure Tilly, the Fire-chest, Crusher of Bones, and legendary rogue; can handle cooking a potato stew."
The Ex-Lord winked teasingly and straightened to a more dignified stance, glancing over his shoulder as though some conspirator were just behind him.
His features sombered to, as due consideration weighed his brows.
He wouldn't want to impose this upon anyone... He could see it on her bones that she was so loathe to do this all. The way her neck tensed whenever it was even briefly mentioned, like she was afeared of some great beast.
Lekalis couldn't blame the girl, though. In truth, he felt much the same way. Or, so he imagined.
To be bound to one home, one Love and a child to boot..? All of it still seemed as fleeting as a candle's flame.
It was the metamorphisis from vagrant hero to veteran. A Life of chasing death, to fighting it. The notion was daunting, and he shared Tilly's discomfort; his hands pulled his cloak a bit closer about himself in futility as he glanced to and fro before settling upon Tilly's humble eyes with a glowing smile.
"I'll help you. Cook, that is... I picked up a few recipes from Gypsies and Nomads and Soldiers on the field." He nodded, pursing his lips in confidence yet again,
"Probably use less... hedgehogs and boots." He mused with a chuckle, nudging Tilly's toes with his own.
He gave a nod over his shoulder, to the shack,
"... I'll be back shortly... I love you."
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Post by black379 on Jan 22, 2018 10:48:41 GMT -8
Courcy chortled, almost snorting, as she leaned her elbow on the table. She looked between Karl and the other men, who seemed to anticipate some great tale from her. In truth she hadn't drawn blood in months, her new halberd had so far eluded any battle.
She had quarreled with Grace more recently than any beast or fiend, but she was hardly about to mention the beating she gave a vestal on a beach.
"C'mon now, I'm a mercenary, not a warrior." She stalled with a laugh, feigning humility.
"Surely you've heard of the horrors that creep in every shadow of this town..." The hellion leaned forward on her knees, exchanging a daunting look between each of the men and women. It was as though they were crowded around a fire, telling ghost stories. "Giant spiders, undead skeletons, ugly beastly pigs!"
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jan 26, 2018 16:33:27 GMT -8
The only thing more displeasing than her impending retirement was the prospect of being nick-named "Fire-Chest," and the grimace that played upon her expression betrayed the sentiment.
Tilly's hands slipped out from her coat if only to straighten it, shifting so that she was turned at least partly away from the open door.
"Ah... I'll have you do all the women's work, at that rate." Her brow furrowed, as she eyed her suddenly-useless hands with some amount of disdain. Her stomach churned.
Despite it, she smiled.
"I... love you too." She gave a wave to him as he departed into the shack. "Be safe."
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jan 26, 2018 16:57:54 GMT -8
"Yes, but the better stories are the ones where you beat them." Karl grinned toothily, almost childishly, as he pressed a fist into an open, meaty palm.
Some handful of others were drawn in by the magnetism of a potential, good story. Even Joseph abandoned the ministrations of the chair to join the crowd, bending to sweep up a small girl with violently curly hair who also begun to drift towards the open door.
Karl's gaze occasionally flitted to the scar on the woman's arm.
"What have you killed? Was it a good fight?"
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Post by relentless on Jan 26, 2018 17:09:28 GMT -8
Bach gave her a raised eyebrow, momentarily, before taking his head away and looking up at the house they were about to confront, and enter.
"Bah, noble goals me' ass. I just want a promotion and more bread."
Baltasar stated with a crooked, anxious smile flashed at Bach, before he straightened himself up, 'brushed dust' off his cuirass and gave a hard knock on the door thrice with the side of his warhammer.
Baltasar clears his throat for a moment, a touch of red pressing on his face from pressure as he was observed by Bach, before took a breath and began.
"This is a state of the Heir's Affairs; if anything inside attacks, you will be executed."
Baltasar finished off his quick declaration of order with a firm voice, though it quaked and shivered from anxiety. He brought about his steel rounded buckler and proceeded to plant a singular, heavy kick near the doorknob.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jan 26, 2018 17:33:23 GMT -8
The love shack:
Kicking the door open was entirely unnecessary; it was already, albeit slightly, ajar.
It swung open wildly and smacked against the wall. The windows trembled.
Despite the ruckus, the air inside was perfectly still. It was a touch dark, but a kitchen could be seen, with a smallish dining table set in the center.
A trail of rose petals lead to an open hatch.
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jan 26, 2018 17:43:50 GMT -8
"That was excessive." Bach says, laughing slightly and rolling her eyes. She looked in through a window to try and get a sense of what they might be walking into.
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Post by Bloodtrailkiller on Jan 26, 2018 18:49:15 GMT -8
\Lekalis\
With maybe an overly sympathetic smile, he cocked his head at Tilly as he spied her distaste,
"The title t'were not but a jest, my dearest Love. My Only." He purred, going so far as to squeeze her shoulder as his eyes scrunched up in focus, as though he were peering into some kaleidoscope for some specific shape.
"My Father always said I was better at Woman's work; I may well need you to be the cock in some regards of the House and keeping, as gold and its countenance has always been trouble for me, I'm a bit... generous when it comes to deals. I've made many friends and contacts because of my loose purse." He chuckled at the innuendo as he chewed on his lower lip and kicked at some unseen pebble.
"I'll need someone to number and haul my stock, find workers, make sure they get paid..." The way his lips pursed up and he shrugged, glancing off innocently, all paid into a level of shrewdness in coin both were guilty of.
"... Efficiently." He decided, his features relaxing and resetting to a state of normality.
"Don't fret on it much, will you? There are many and more pressing things than what you'll do as my Wife, you know? We still have to find you a dress..." He hummed the last with a wink as he took a step away from her, his hands splayed out in a punctual shrug.
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Post by relentless on Jan 26, 2018 18:52:22 GMT -8
Baltasar ushered into the room with determined, but frantic intent. His buckler and warhammer were raised into combat form, eyes scouring the dark for any trace of threat, before he turned his head to the window Bach was peeking through, flicking his head to signal her in.
His eyebrows furrowed upon the trail of rose petals, and he knelt down to the 6th one in row, placing his warhammer down beside him on the floorboard and picking it up with delicate grace.
"Odd.."
Baltasar noted with a fading stammer, creasing his eyes as he analyzed the thin rose with a 'detectives' glare.
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