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Post by Rip on Aug 18, 2010 21:06:35 GMT -5
Don't judge my rp titles
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Shiloh Bracken gazed out her passenger window while the carriage jumped and bumped over cracks in the road. The young couple that accompanied her for the better part of the journey from Silvereye exited nearly an hour ago, and now she was alone but for the quiet driver and the steadfast horses. Outside, fish scale clouds crawled across the sky. She could taste the wind through the cracks in the door and found it fish flavored. Men lifted heavy crates off and onto enormous ships that bobbed in the unsteady harbor. Children weaved games of tag in and out of the workmen’s routes and dodged irritable swipes to the head. Red Axe was alive and busy, filled with people with something to do and something even more important waiting on the back burner. Shiloh, who was bored out of her mind in the dull capitol, found the bustle refreshing.
“Here is fine, sir.” She called, and all at once, the carriage pulled to the side. The man mumbled a rehearsed courtesy while Shiloh handed him payment and a smile to accompany it.
“Have a good day,” she said, and the horses trotted away with the carriage and occupied driver.
The girl turned, hands clasped behind her back, and smiled out to the city. It’d been a while since she’d been to Red Axe, and though she came a long way, she wasn’t carrying anything that didn’t fit in her dress pocket, nor did she look particularly travel weary. She had no bag, no purse, and no visible weapon, but she stepped along the sidewalk with calm aimlessness. Her hair, a short, dark brown lions mane, blew in every direction, but she never stopped to push it out of her eyes. For a while she wandered like that, few people turning to acknowledge her, but she smiled at the ones who did, especially the children.
It was too early to look for a bar and too bright out to pick a fight. Decisions, decisions.
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Post by Locke (DP) on Aug 25, 2010 0:00:29 GMT -5
[OoC: Did not proofread, so have fun with this.]
Ilvyn was uncharacteristically down that day. It was difficult to tell just looking at him, but under his mountainous cloak, backpack, and several layers of clothing the poor fool was starving. His stomach twisted itself into knots and screamed at him every few seconds, which made his locking picking work difficult. Even his fingers were trembling from the hunger. He would have filched a fish or two from the dockside market, but the memory of that freakish Nivali killer kept enough fear in him to stay far away from that. The boy would have to remain hungry until he got his copper for this job. Just a little longer.
While his eyes were on his work, he didn’t notice Shiloh or the man who was about to approach her. An aristocrat enjoying the markets of Red Axe, there was no doubt of this when one took a look at his fancy coat and uncharacteristically large belly. Most of the rich folk kept to Silvereye, where they could kiss the asses of the royalty in exchange for protection- but even rich fools had to get out every once in a while and the filthy and dying city of Carden was simply not an option. The rich were all alike; poking their noses and in places other people didn’t want them to. This round, moustached, beady eyed man was no exception and gave voice to the matter (quite loudly) at hand quite loudly. That was, the matter of a fel’asar and a questionable looking low-class girl being within ten feet of one another, for this was awfully suspicious. Surely they were working together and doing something illegal!
“And what is this?” The man crowed. “A thieving fel’asar and his accomplice!” At ‘fel’asar’ Vyn glanced over his shoulder. The man may have had a large belly, but he apparently wasn’t afraid of pushing his way around, as he reached for Shiloh’s arm as if to detain her. “Don’t you think for a moment I won’t report this to the authorities, you little street rat!”
Why the man didn’t go for Vyn instead of her was the question, but it most likely had to do with those huge intimidating horns and his strange otherworldly red eyes. The moment Ilvyn’s gaze met the man’s, the human cringed. That was the moment Vyn decided he would help this girl. Why? Well, it seemed fun, and maybe he could get a little reward for doing his duty as an adventurer. That was why.
“Ah, you keep your hands off of her now, fatty, or things are going to get ugly,” Vyn said, while rising to his feet. “This is a legit business, after all, and I wouldn’t want you harming my apprentice.” Apprentice? What the hell? Where am I even going with this? While his mind was screaming at him for being an idiot, his hands went into the collar of his shirt and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. Flicking it open, he shoved it into the guys face. “Here is my license. It has a pretty little stamp from Silvereye and everything. Now get out of here before I fucking kill you.”
Vyn ended the conversation with a snarling note of animosity. The pudgy aristocrat apparently found sincerity in his threat, for he choked and his breath and backed off a few feet. So much for getting copper from this job; he may not report me for stealing, but he’ll definitely say something about me threatening to kill him. Now that Ilvyn had successfully chased the pompous bastard off, it was time to learn if that was all worth it. Throwing his arm around the girl as if he did know her (and quite well at that) he pulled her close. The killer demeanor was lost. He was all sharp toothy smiles now.
“So kid, now that I got your admirer to go take a hike, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Then you can buy me dinner.
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Post by Rip on Aug 25, 2010 12:27:09 GMT -5
Few things could throw Shiloh for a loop anymore, but this was a new life lesson. Apparently, unassuming events, such as walking by a fel’asar kid and a suspicious fat man at the same time, could cause quite a few problems. Who knew?
She wandered along the sidewalk, looking at nothing in particular, when she heard a gentleman raise his voice and carry on about conspiracies or something.
“A thieving fel’asar and his accomplice!”
She glanced back, wondering what an accomplice of a fel’asar looked like, and a chubby hand clamped down just above her elbow. Shiloh flinched when he pinched the smooth flesh of her arm, but the surprise of being manhandled kept her from protesting. Instead, she dangled there, mouth pressed in a line of confusion. Passerby stared as they passed, some whispering to each other, others avoiding eye contact from the supposed criminal. For a brief moment, Shiloh wondered if this man was a hunter, but then his overpowering perfume wafted over her face, and she decided against that. This man was more confused than dangerous. Or stupid. Probably stupid.
“UUmmmmmm, I think you have the wrong-“ she started, but then, to her ever growing sensation of ‘wow life is sure weird’, said thieving fel’asar cut her off. What followed was the coolest thing ever.
Apprentice? Apprentice for what? She looked around quickly, her eye catching possibilities here. Locks, small picks, grease. Locksmith maybe? Or engineer? He looked sort of young for an engineer. Mechanic? Shiloh imagined herself working with machinery and the vision ended in smoke and fire. Always the technologically retarded, Shiloh’s version of fixing things involved finding someone else better at it. Ah well, the art of improvisation was better than her workmanship.
But she didn’t even need to say anything. The little purple dude ended on a very ambiguous note, and up so close to the man, Shiloh saw sweat bead on his brow. He released her arm with a grunt and turned away, mumbling. She pulled her arm to herself and rubbed it through her sleeve as she watched the large man speed walk down the street, bowling over unfortunate lower class who got in his way.
Did he really call her street rat? Ouch.
Before she had time to properly react to everything that just happened, the locksmith/engineer/mechanic pulled her in, and Shiloh discovered just how unnerving pointy teeth really are. But, she looked unphased, and after blinking once or twice, returned a smile. It was a crooked, sincere little grin that lit up her blue eyes, but before she said anything, she puffed the hair out of her face. Did he really call her kid? He was shorter than she was! And purple. With horns. She wondered if it was difficult to put on shirts without getting them caught.
“I think,” she said. “you should already know your apprentice’s name, right?” If she could, she’d slip out of his arm and loiter by his tools. She folded her arms behind her back and rocked on her heels, looking at his stuff. “So, what am I learning today, master? Or was today the ‘play the distressed damsel’ lesson? I think my form was a little off. I didn’t scream or cry or anything.”
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Post by Locke (DP) on Sept 8, 2010 6:30:02 GMT -5
“Ah, see, that’s the problem. You skipped a step in your initiation and I let it slide by until now,” Ilvyn explained. “You have to treat me to lunch or dinner before we’re on first-name basis.”
Vyn’s stomach growled as if on cue and his face contorted into one of obvious pain. Truthfully he had probably overreacted- anything to get a little pity so maybe she would feel more incline to ‘return the favor’. The boy made a show of gripping his belly through his clothes and looking awful pathetic. No one ever claimed Ilvyn was a good actor though; he was better at stealing than pretending he was starving even when he was quite hungry. The fel’asar would have just filched some coins from the girl but he didn’t think she had any. She doesn’t look too rich. Damnit for me not beating the shit out of that rich snot and stealing all his gold…
Noticing her eyeing his picks that lay on the ground, Vyn swooped in to lift them off the ground and tuck them into the magical pockets on the inside of his shirt. Glancing at her suspiciously it was clear what he was thinking. It takes a thief to know a thief and thus Vyn was paranoid about those like himself. Ilvyn could steal other people’s property without any guilt, but touch his stuff and one was begging for murder. Out of all the things he owned his picks were important to him- in the wrong hands they were useless, but in Vyn’s hands he could have anyone’s gold with a pick and a dagger. Improvised picks just didn’t do on those tough locks any true thief knew this. Maybe even this strange girl knew that.
“Mm…well…I’m not sure you would make a very good damsel,” Vyn replied after his tools were safely tucked away. “I’m no knight either.”
Vyn didn’t know whether to find her tolerant or naïve of his fel’asar nature. The girl didn’t seem particularly phased by his appearance, but surely she should know not to mingle with him for long. This could only end with him betraying her and slitting her throat in a back alley. She would have to be stupid not to realize this.
Of course, I won’t…but in the back of human’s minds they must be thinking about it…she seems strangely okay with this.
Now that was suspicious and perhaps if Ilvyn had sat down to mull it over he would have found his answer. The boy could care less at the moment as his thoughts were interrupted by his snarling stomach. It was time to get out of here and get something to eat and hopefully far from noblemen and other questionable strangers.
“So, yeah, here’s the deal. I don’t mind hitting girls in self-defense and I sure as hell don’t mind making them pay for my lunch,” Vyn explained. “Not that I’m gonna’ hit you or anything but…I’m dirt poor the least you could do for a guy is chip in a little coin for some food…or watch my back while I…lift…some…”
Letting his voice trail off Ilvyn said no more. Maybe she would report him for plotting to steal. After threatening to kill a noble person (someone who was not above giving the law enforcement a little ‘tip’ to put them on his side) he didn’t want a girl running around telling people he was also planning on stealing. Not that it was too surprising for a fel’asar to steal but all the same he still liked Red Axe. Although maybe less. The weird encounters he kept having here were getting to be a little too much but that was a different tale entirely.
“So, what do you say? Or do I have to threaten to kill you too?”
((OoC: NO PROOFREADY. And omg I stayed up all night so…yeah…it’s probably bad.))
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Post by Rip on Sept 8, 2010 21:34:49 GMT -5
“Ah, see, that’s the problem. You skipped a step in your initiation and I let it slide by until now. You have to treat me to lunch or dinner before we’re on first-name basis.”
“Did I?” She said, watching him herd up the picks. Curious to her, why everyone in Red Axe seemed to think she was a criminal. Maybe she had an air of burglary or something. The tools flashed in the sun, and she cocked her head while cracking her fingers behind her back.
“Most call me Queen Clementine the fourth, but I’ll make an exception for you,” she continued. “It’s Shiloh. Do I get to know yours, or was it stolen? I can’t help you if it was.”
He turned, faced her, his work tools safely away from her supposed greedy fingers. She’d never had long conversations with a fel’asar before, so this wasn’t entirely familiar territory. But, well, new experiences and all that. His eyes were a little unnerving, red specks in the dark, but he couldn’t be all bad. He hated fat, crazy people and didn’t shy from giving death threats. Murderers were usually trustworthy. Perhaps he could even back up all the posturing. Shiloh was never kicked by a horse, but she’d seen a man who was, and she remembered the way his face sunk in deep to his skull and bulges of puffy flesh raising where his eye should be. If Mr. I-Will-Kill-You could hit half as hard, he might give her real hell.
Wouldn’t that be fun?
And maybe she’d get to try it out anyhow. She listened with a raised brow and an extending grin while he half threatened, half demanded, sort of asked for food. People moved around them without thinking about it. The smell of bread and fish flushed the wind.
Water
water
everywhere.
“So, what do you say? Or do I have to threaten to kill you too?”
“Well, you can if you want, but that won’t help you get your name back any quicker,” she replied, turning away from him. She kept her hands behind her back, clasped loosely, and strolled slowly down the cobbled path towards the sea. “I don’t have any money. Right now. But I’ll feed you, if that’s really what you want. Sort of a lame wish, but hey, I didn’t come here to judge. If you still have your name, make sure you bring it with you though. You might need it.”
The girl glanced over her shoulder and waited.
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Post by Locke (DP) on Sept 24, 2010 22:06:38 GMT -5
“You’re looking pretty homely for a queen. Don’t queens usually wear nicer clothes?,” Ilvyn pointed out. “You can call me Vyn and if someone is running around claiming to be me they will have to be killed. I can’t have my business being stolen, you see.”
The boy managed a half-hearted grin through the hunger pangs, a sign that he was only teasing. Shiloh seemed quite relaxed in his presence. Perhaps she found his threats silly, unbelievable. Vyn stared at her for a moment, trying to find some hint of fear or disgust. He was no good at discerning subtle emotions and eventually looked away. Shiloh was difficult to read and very…unusual.
Vyn tagged after her as she moved down the path. “You’re strange,” he muttered to her back. “For a human.” A case of the pot calling the kettle black. Vyn was not an image of normalcy, but he behaved exactly how others expected him to. Shiloh was just an eccentric girl who had no obvious explanations behind the way she spoke and acted. Curious and yet…amusing. Ilvyn liked it.
Then he caught movement from the corner of his eye and he moved quickly up to Shiloh and started pushing her along, trying to get her to move at a faster pace. “It seems our friend from earlier has called some help. Don’t look.” From here Ilvyn could see Mister Glutton coming with a pair of city law enforcement, the only thing keeping him from reaching Shiloh and Vyn was the mobstacle course that lay before him. “He hasn’t spotted us yet, but with you sticking out like some giant tree-person that isn’t about to last long. Hurry.”
See, there are advantages to being small. Especially if one is a criminal that doesn’t want to stick out in a crowd. Not that they had done anything wrong, but Vyn wasn’t looking forward to being investigated for any reason- especially considering the long record of crimes that trailed behind him longer than his own tail. Hopefully Shiloh would understand and maybe she could stand stooping down a little, damned tall people.
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