Miscellaneous Buildings

[Bloodtrailkiller]

[Sometime later...]

With the sun slowly descending, the shadows drew long and the light greys turned a tawny hue in the dusklight sun. The small clearing the betrothed found themselves in was starting to lose its light and luster.
While they'd played the part of Lover's, their due diligence came to the fore with their clothes finally clean and ready to face the Darkest Estate's woes once more.

The air had slowly become colder and colder as the sun fell farther away, and now brooked a threatening tone; a forewarning that their dalliance wouldn't be so permitted for much longer, so far from any light.

/Lekalis/

Still somewhat in the throes of their tumbling, Lekalis moaned in an utterly base manner as he pulled away from Tilly and sat back on his haunches; knelt away from her at last, he carefully moved one of her legs over to meet the other. Like the gates to pleasure itself, he mournfully stroked the thigh of his Only as he rolled his shoulders in satisfaction.
"To think we'll have a proper feather bed one day, with silk sheets and warm wine..." He lamented with another moan, shaking his head and running his hand through his tousled hair to free it of any knots.

The Ex-Lord gave Tilly's derriere a soft slap as he rose to one knee and looked about to the encroaching dark with some blithe fear as he went to caress Tilly's flank, as if in apology,
"... We'd best get to work though. I... may have lost myself, again." He apologized in a sorry-not-sorry way, innocently scratching at his jaw with a catty smile.

\\

[Vanitypirate]

[From Hamlet streets]
There was a man beside one of the shop windows, dressed in tall boots and a soldier's jacket. A garish feather had been poked into his hat, which bobbed with every proud bob of his head.
Ponytail was standing in front of a window with two hands set upon his hips, and he was admiring wooden figurines and curios on display with all the wonder of a child.

It had been much time since he had seen one of those.

What caught his eye, more, was another fellow with a dog in tow. He did not recognize the breed, but any friend of a beast was a friend of his.
He stepped out and rose a palm, calling out in a prominent, French accent,

"'O! Good man!" He flashed a smile and his risen hand turned into a wave, "Do you hunt, sir?"

[azmoham]

He hummed as he walked, occasionally breaking oput into snatches of song before dropping away again “So pass the flowin bowl boys, there’s whiskey in the jar, and we’ll drink to all the lassies in the jolly rovin tar!...hm-hm-hmm-hm-hmm-hmmm-hm-hmm-hm!”
Trent turned and found himself on a street lined on both sides by shops and stalls. Merchants kept leery eyes over their various baubles and trinkets, calling out their sales and inventory, cajoling those passing by to spend a coin or two. It was comforting to see that even here life continued much the same way it did anywhere else, and he smiled as he plodded thoughtfully from stall to store window and back again, inspecting the various items available. Most of what was for sale was the run-of-the-mill, metal trinkets or tools, necklaces and bracelets made from interesting stones, poultices and potions guaranteed to cure what ailed him. It was a claim that made him chuckle, after all, nobody here was selling a cure for old age.
Now THAT would be worth a few coins!
Even still, he couldn’t help but be charmed by the miniature market, though it was small and its wares were often all but garbage, the very fact of its existence was enough to buoy his spirits. A shout was raised, at first he thought it was for another but still turned to look and found the man in question looking right to him. He squinted at the foreigner, parsing his accent for a moment before understanding dawned on him. Laughing, he set down the crude knife he’d been examining and went to greet the man proper, a grin on his face.
“Not so much anymore, unless you count trying to find the bottom of bottle! Ha!”
He stuck out one of this thick hands in the direction of the man, and beside him Rudy barked. She pressed her nose against the Frenchman’s leg, before stepping back, cocking her head to one side and then the other before letting out another boisterous 'woof!'. Looking towards what was held in the store window the man had just been leaning against, the old guard scratched his furry chin as he considered the wooden figures. They were finely carved, and he much admired the craftsmanship on display.
“Quite the little marketplace, eh? Much to see, if not very much worth your coin.”
He nudged the other man conspiratorially as he said the last part, as if letting him in on some private joke before clapping him on the shoulder and releasing a hearty guffaw.

[Vanitypirate]

[At the river]
While the sun set and the day got colder, Tilly felt as content and at peace as if she was laying in a sunbean.
She took a breath, and then another two, finding herself more awake with each one.

With a sigh, she teased and poked Lekalis with the pad of her toe,
"We already have the silk sheets."
And then she sat up, rolling her shoulders. She smoothed out her hair and gave a small shiver, glancing over wantingly to her clothes.

She agreed and quietly wished she didn't,
"Ah, yeah, we ought to head back." As she found her feet, she stretched her arms and made to close the distance to her apparel.
She looked her shoulder and smiled at him, jesting,
"Maybe we'll be more focused, now?"

[Vanitypirate]

Ponytail smiled widely and then broke into a laugh.
"Aha! Clever man!" He clapped his hands delightedly before bending to pet the dog and scratch it from behind the ears.
"That is a shame, sir; in your shadow you have the best hunter one could find."

He straightened up and smoothed the front of his coat,
"They are quite lovely, no? These wooden people--" He nodded to the window, "One can learn much by how a man carves a toy."
He smiled again and shook the man's hand,

"I am 'Adrian Foster-- but friends call me Ponytail."

[azmoham]

Ponytail eh? Not a terribly noble nickname, and he is French..But a fine enough fellow so far
The old man took Ponytail’s hand and shook it hard, once, twice, and then let it go while.
“Trent! And Rudy here might be the only dog in the world that’s as lousy at hunting as I am!”
The dog looked up at this, as if deeply incensed, and he offered her a shrug.
“But she’s a mean one in a fight she is.”
He offered by way of apology, and with what he assumed was acceptance the canine returned to soaking up the affection bestowed upon her by the young man.
“You can learn a lot about a man in a lot of ways. How he holds his drink, his sword, himself in a fight. Don’t see why carving would be any different.”
He nodded, leaning down till his broad nose almost touched the glass, his eyes figuring over each little wooden beast and man until they rested on a small dog. It was perhaps as tall as his thumb and as long as his pinkie, a simple little creation albeit imbued with a certain energy by the skill of its creator. One paw was raised, and its head looked up and away as if scenting the air, tail cocked off to one side. Straightening up again, he made thoughtful noises and took his coin purse from where it hung on his belt, loosening the drawstring to peer inside. It looked like plenty from where he stood, but didn’t it always before one got down to the mean business of eating and drinking and sleeping? Still, how much could the little thing possibly be? A few coins for a momento, something to hold in his hands and think on...He leaned forward again, to look once more at the figurine.
Ah to hell with it.
He moved to the shop’s door and pulled it open, looking to see if Ponytail would accompany them.
“Worth a peak inside, do you wager?”

[Vanitypirate]

"It is a pleasure Trent and Rudy!" Ponytail nodded with a smile, stepping back to allow the man to witness the full breadth of the shop window.
He'd had his fill, after all, and he did not possess the coin to pay for a figurine.

Following his gaze, the hunter spied what caught the old houndmaster's eye.

He couldn't think of anything more fitting.

"You are kind, Mister Trent." Ponytail tipped his feathered hat to the fellow before stepping inside the toyshop, looking eagerly at the collection within. It was all rather impressive.

"Did something in the window please you?"
He was curious.

[Bloodtrailkiller]

[At the River]
/Lekalis/

He pondered her proposition of clarity with some severe thought as he saw to gathering up his apparel and gear,
"... For now, aye. Though if you ever, ever want to... focus our minds again; don't you hesitate for a second, love." Lekalis chuckled and swept up his cloak at last, shameless in the way he wore the platform for their salaciousness on his back as he check his person one last time, before slipping his satchel across his chest with an affirming grunt.

"Curious; you do like it, right..?" He asked with humble sincerity, cocking his head to one side as he tapped the pads of his fingers together in hesitant consideration,
"... I know I can be a bit forward. Though, I can always reel that back if you'd like?"

[azmoham]

The shop was a high-ceilinged affair, with rows of toys filling every wall save the front, where the large glass display dominated. The old man hadn't been in a toyshop in years, for obvious reasons, and so he relished the chance to act younger than his age. Almost within the moment he set foot inside the shop, he was picking things up off of their shelves and stands, moving their arms and legs and making a very poor attempt to hide his glee. Puppets on strings hung from the rafters, their little feet dangling high off the dusty floor, with rocking horses and wooden model houses set out in the corners of the shop, whole armies of tin soldiers clustered on one shelf, while their ships waited patiently on the one beside. Wooden blocks were arranged in the shape of small houses and buildings, with little wooden carts drawn by wooden horses galloping between them.
“Oh, this and that. Nice to have a look around every once in a while though, mm?”
The ex-constable ran his eyes over the various brightly colored items, their paints or varnishes faded in some cases and totally gone in other, but all with the same attention to detail and sturdy build quality that had first enticed him inside in the first place.
“Say, what’s a Frenchman such as yourself doing so far from home?”
He asked suddenly, setting down the doll he’d been fiddling with and offering Adrian a quizzical stare.

[Vanitypirate]

Tilly was silent, as though she were in severe contemplation. Much focus went into fitting her legs into her pants and buttoned it at the top.
In actuality, she was subduing a smile.

"Bit coarse of a lady to answer that, I'd say." She went about buttoning up her shirt, next; while the water had helped with the smell and the dirt, it did little to lift the long-standing stainage of expeditions.
Quite obviously, she couldn't get married in that. But the prospect of spending coin when she had perfectly good clothes to wear ordinarily did not excite her.

She buttoned up the jerkin, but let the scale mail sit in her satchel. Then came the coat, where she'd pat down the pockets to ensure that everything was in its place, then the boots, and lastly, the hat.
Motioning for him to follow, hastily, she hurried him,

"Let's get going before it gets dark, yeah?"

[Vanitypirate]

Ponytail noted the man's excitement with no short supply of joy and relief on his own. It was a rare thing to find someone more jovial and colorful than the ordinarily dower folk that frequented the Hamlet.
He supposed it was fair; the sun hardly came out to warm them.

"Eh, French-man?" His gingery brows rose, and then he patted the space right above his heart proudly.

"You are mistaken, Mr. Trent; I am English."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

With a shrug, he nodded in agreement to the latter though he looked all too intrigued by her former answer. The Ex-Lord whistled a quick tune before slipping his arm around hers as they walked on and away from the river, freshly bathed and glowing.
"You might not be coarse, but I'd hope you to be honest, my dear Tilly."

He obnoxiously brushed his shoulder against hers consistently,
"Eh? Eh? Come on then, tell me... I'll not tell a soul, merely curious." Indeed, his pestering only intensified as every step seemed to pique his interest evermore.

\\

[azmoham]

Trent lifted a fuzzy eyebrow, offering the younger man an incredulous look.
"Your parents French then?"
He asked, turning his eyes away and back to the shelves. Sitting in front of him was a small sackcloth bag with a leather strap tied about the top to keep it closed. Intrigued by this item's dull appearance in contrast with the rest of what was on display, he picked it up. Holding it in his palm, he carefully undid the knot holding the parcel closed and upturned the small bag onto his hand. A little cork ball along with six or seven little pieces of carved bone tumbled out onto his hand, one or two more clattering to the floor. Letting out an 'oh!' of surprise, he hurried to stoop down and pick them up, scooping them back into the bag.
"Jacks! I haven't played a game in years!"
He enthused still crouched on the floor as he stared at the bag. Rudy eyed the little pieces with curiosity, clearly eager to gnaw on them, but the old man took care to keep them out of her reach. Standing again, his spine popped and he grunted, placing a hand on the small of back, once more mentally cursing his age.
Should've come here twenty years ago, I'd really of had something to show em then...

[Vanitypirate]

Long fingers toyed at the collar of her coat with her free arm, while she had her other arm interlocked with Lekalis's.
She was pointedly avoiding his eyes, looking forward, and her mouth was in a pained line.

Finally her stone-face expression broke and she laughed as a shoulder-bump caused her to stumble a touch, though she remained upright.

"You're worse than Florence with these questions!" She accused, waggling a finger at Lekalis.

"There's nothing wrong with a bit of mystery, you ought to know."

[Bloodtrailkiller]

/Lekalis/

"I'm much better at the delivery though aren't I? Surely you're utterly entranced, sworn to answer by the grace of my tongue!" He replied in utter dismay, looking to her in utter shock as she waggled her finger.
Lekalis quickly latched his free hand around it and kissed the tip of her digit.

"Or... does the grace of my tongue only entrance you down there?" He mused sadly, pouting before swiftly smirking as the dirt began to collect into cobblestones before them, and trees became buildings. Leafy canopies, shingles and chimneys...
\Lekalis and Tilly head to the Hamlet Streets?\