Night Shift

Log Info

• Title: Night Shift
• Emitter: Irshya
• Characters: Irshya, Slixvah, Dirk, Patch
• Place: The TarRaCe
• Time: September 19th, 2022
• Summary: The TarRaCe is busy this night, the rainy weather forcing most inside to hide from its hinting chills of autumn. Irshya is wrapping up the evening shift, and a pale wood elf takes over for the night shift, filling in orders for Dirk and Patch. They all joke back and forth, be merry before Irshya heads off to take care of other duties. Patch eventually figures out the snow elf is Slixvah, much to the bafflement of Dirk before Patch goes to get her instrument and all set in for the night shift.

The Tarrace is a welcome respite to the rain and chill outside. The fires are burning high, chasing away the chill, and so the Tarrace is fairly crowded with people. Servers in black pants and white shirts weave back and forth between the bar and kitchen, bringing dinners and beverages.

Irshya is in high form at the bar, with drinks being mixed and poured, and expertly slid over the bar's black, glossy surface.

The baths also seem to be active, with numerous folks coming and going.

The special monster meal of the day: stewed cockatrice!

There's another soul coming into the TarRaCe from the back break room. Them having a rag tossed over a shoulder with black pants and a white shirt with red suspenders tying it all together. But is it a new bartender? It's a tallish Sylvanori woman, with a long braid of red hair with snowy pale skin of ice and a few red feathers sticking out from behind an ear.

"Rish Rish! I'm here!" she announces, throwing her hands to the sky and slipping behind the bar. "Sorry it took me a bit! That killer rain makes it heckin' hard ta fly anywhere!"

Dirk had arrived at the TaRaCe just before the skies opened up. A good thing too--there's few things more miserable than trying to peddle one's wares in the middle of a chilly downpour. And so the burly old woodsman has settled himself at a table. He emptied two bowls of stewed cockatrice, along with an entire basket of crusty bread rolls, and he's working on his fourth tankard of ale. He settles himself back in his comfortable chair, match flame leaping as he pulls it into the bowl of his pipe. After a moment, he snaps the flame out, puffing a billow of sweet vanilla-honey smoke into the air with a contented sigh. "Gods, what a delicious meal," he rumbles happily, tossing his spent match onto the emtpy dish. "Nothin' better than a comfortable meal wi' friends, on a dismal night like this, eh?"

He takes ahold of his pipe so he can tip back the remainder of his beer. He lets loose a mighty rafter-shaking belch as he thunks the mug back down on the table. "BRAAAAALPH!" Now there's a sign that dinner was properly enjoyed! He looks ready to get the attention of his waiter, when the new bartender comes whirling in. "Ye made it! Well done!" he rumbles with a chuckle. "Och, it's nae fit weather fer man -nor- beast tae be out in, good thing ye got here when ye did, nay?"

Patch had been a patron of the baths, slipping into the bar through the heavy wooden door that separates the two services. She's dressed in fresh clothes, hands smoothing at her capelet. She's yet to rebraid her hair, letting it hang loose as she had when she first started gallivanting across the city causing a ruckus. "Who made it for what?" ears twitching, and fighting to drain the excess water that makes hearing hard. "Is it really going to be busy with the weather like it is?" she asks, her words more for the owner, a soft glance dawdling on the small goblin woman.

To Dirk, Patch turns a glance, offering a small smirk. "Weather's terrible. As soon as I got in, right to the baths. Was soaked." she notes with a wrinkle of nose.

It's the bar Patch then heads too, taking a seat, and looking at the other two that gather. "So, any recommendations? I'm here all night."

Irshya pauses in her frenzy of drink serving to grab Slixvah by the shirt collar, and smoooooches her cheek. "Shift change!", she squeals and bounces down from the stool that lets her see over the bar.

Her nose wrinkles at the belch from the Khazad, and she huffs. "Irshya is glad that you enjoyed the dish of the day. She will now go and give your compliment to the chefs." This is followed by the Gobbo chugging down an ale, and then heading for the kitchen.

The sounds of a busy kitchen is interrupted by a whistle... then a belch that lasts several seconds. Polite applause follows.

Patch is squeezed around the waist from behind, and Irshya answers her question finally: "Yes, as long as we are warm, lit up and feeding people, it will be crowded. But that's a good thing. More coin for us all!"

The wood (snow?) elf bartender blinks from the belch emitted by Dirk, both ears flicking twice before they shake their head and provide a lopsided grin. "Glad ta hear that it satisfied!" she coos warmly, stepping up beside Irysha and cracking her knuckles.

Which, the gobbo hand briefly passes through some illusion as a robe is grabbed, the snow elf leans down, and is smooched.

She blinks dumbly. Her face grows crimson. "... s-shift change!" the stymied elf declares, her picking up where the busy gobbo left off. Large sky blue eyes glance to Patch, a warm if flustered smile thrown her way. "Ah, yeah, uh, erm, uh..." she looks about under the bar. "... got a lot of honey mead in...? Shtuff's good I've heard."

Dirk perks as he sees Patch arriving from the baths, and his smile broadens. "Oh! Hello there, lassie! Good tae see ye! Glad yer in here, an' nae out -there-." He points with his pipe at the window, right as a boom of thunder and a fresh sheet of rain washes against the glass. "I expect there'll be plenty o' business done tonight. Lots o' folk be wantin' a hot tasty meal an' some drinks in a cozy tavern, nay? -I'm- surely in nae hurry to get back out in that! Even if the rain lets up, the roads'll be naught but miles o' miserable boot-suckin' bog from here clear tae me cabin, I'll warrant." He chuckles, drawing a pull from his pipe as he shakes his head. "Nay, I'm perfectly content tae stay right here!"

A twitch of ear, and a confused glance go to the kitchen at the belch and applause. Patch is left smirking as she turns to Elf-Slixvah with a small grin. "Delightful, isn't it? So much life and fun." a warm tone there as she regards the bird-be-elf. "I'll take you up on that offer of mead." eyes trailing over Slixvah's flush from Irshya's actions.

To Irshya's surprise hug from behind, Patch is flushed, quickly turning in her seat to briefly return that embrace. "Busy is always good, and profits... better."

"It's good to see you, Master Dirk." Patch says in return, dipping her head in a subtle act of respect. "Astute as always, this dreary day doesn't do much to encourage me to wander. I'd much rather play, and keep warm. The chill sets in faster than one would think. More when the sun sets."

Irshya eyes Slixvah a moment, and then Patch, before giggling at length, looking extremely pleased with herself.

"Honey mead is delicious. Also, play up the Stormbrew too. Khazad will be filling this place in no time, they've got an autumn festival that not all of them can get back home for. So they'll be drinking their sorrows here!" She claps her hands together. "Or that's what Irshya is hoping!"

The pool-shark gets in more hugging, clinging to Patch's waist. "If you wish, master Dirk, there is room upstairs once the place has closed. Can keep you warm and dry, and you can worry about the roads in the morning. Or, if you'd prefer a better bed under you, Irshya recommends the Fernwood."

The Gobbo tickles at Patch's sides, and then settles at the bar. "One bird blush, please!"

Slixvah fires off a crisp thumbs up towards the boss. "Understood! I'll keep tha in mind," she chirps, pulling out a bottle and popping the cork. A glass is poured before both full cup and bottle is slid over to Patch. "There ya go!"

"Yeah, I hope it clears up at the end of my shift!" the snow elf bartender mentions, gaze lingering on Irshya's antics. She blinks, quirks her head the side. "Bird blush? Ain't heard that drink befor'. How's that one made?" she snickers.

Dirk tucks his pipe in the side of his mouth, sending up a couple little idle puffs as he briskly gathers up his dishes together into a neat stack. He hops to his feet and carries the dishes over to the bar, setting them nearby so they can get cleared away. Hopping up on tiptoes, he reaches over the bar and snags a clean cloth. Dunking it in the washtub, he crushes the cloth in a ham of a fist to wring the water out, then trundles back over to his table. He swiftly wipes it down, leaving it pretty as a picture for the next patron to come in.

Ambling back to the bar, he hops up into one of the dwarf-height stools near Patch. "I'll not say no tae a mug o' mead," he says, taking ahold of his pipe with a chuckle. "An' put Patch's on my bill, eh? I'm feelin' generous tonight." Irshya's offer has the old woodsman smiling warmly, and he nods his head. "Oh, that's most kind of ye, Missus Irshya!" he says cheerfully. "Might just take ye up on that! I'll be happy tae scrub some dishes tae earn me keep, just let me know how I can help!"

Patch squeaks as she startles, those hands on her sides had her squirming in place, and thrashing ears. "Hey, now!" the dawn elf calls, fighting the laughter as she turns on Irshya, seeing the woman retreat and settle at the bar. "Don't let the hands start something the heart can't finish, Hon." she counters with a coy smirk.

It's lucky Slixvah was so quick with Patch's drink, the elven woman taking in up with a quick sip. She's still pink of cheek, her birthmark a dull purple in hue as she regains composure, adjusting her vest and blouse. "Oh, I've seen a bird blush many a time." that coy grin suddenly weaponized as she wiggles a brow at the birdtender. "Usually it starts with shots and dinner."

Dirk's actions earn an amused grin, watching after him as he resettles next to her at the bar. "Oh, I can't turn down free drinks. Not the first few anyways. It's when you get to six or seven that it gets hard to play. Not a pretty sight." Patch muses, though she is absent her instrument, or so it seems.

Irshya grins mischievously at Slixvah, and wiggles a finger in a 'come hither' gesture. "It's a secret, Irshya will whisper it in your ear."

The Dwarf's suggestion about earning his keep has her frowning. "If Irshya is inviting someone to stay, they are a guest, and do not pay. Drink and meals are one thing, but seeing her patrons safely stowed for the night is another. Irshya will not accept coin or services in return for a warm place to sleep."

She grins at Patch then, and rolls her shoulders in a shrug. "Who said Irshya could not finish?"

The snow elf bartender sweeps a hand under the bar, a flagon on the opposite side of her flipping up through the air as she holds out a hand. It lands in her palm, and she's knocking it under one of the kegs. "One Stormbrew, comin' up," she chirps, sliding around behind the bar with one hand getting other orders taken care of. Gloved fingers snap, and there's a spectral white hand assisting her behind the bar.

She slides the mug over to Dirk, the rag on her shoulder getting tossed down to polish off the bar. "There ya go, lad," she hums.

The bartender watches the banter with an amused smile. But, they twist their head to the side in a sharp manner, but she shrugs and leans over the bar to listen to Irshya's recipe for bird blush.

Dirk takes the mug up with a broad smile, lifting it towards his friends. "Here's fer yer health, mates!" he booms cheerfully. He tips the mug back and sets to work as only a dwarf can. His Adam's apple bobs as his throat works like a mighty pump, draining the mug in short order. Once it's emptied, he bangs it down on the bar. "RUUOOAAAAAALLLPPH!" He grins, wiping his mouth on the back of a hairy fist. "'scuse me! Och, that's some good mead, that! Give us another!" Patch gets a sly grin as he watches her fidget. "Och, yer cute when ye ear-twitch like that," he observes offhandedly with a snicker. Turning his attention to Irshaya, he blushes under his snowy white beard. "Aww, gods love ye, Missus Irshya," he says. "That's right kind of ye, that is. But truly, I dinnae mind lendin' a hand. Gods know I'll be dirtyin' up plenty o' mugs tonight! Besides, dwarves are happy when they're workin', ye know!"

"Noted." is all Patch says to Irshya's comment, smirking into her mead from her seat.

There is a slight flush to Dirk's words, a low tone offered to the Dwarf with a small smile. "That's sweet of you, Dirk. They kind of have a mind of their own most days." she gets out, sipping the mead and taking in it's flavor with a broadening grin. "I couldn't kill a drink like that if I tried." she muses of Dirk's quickly-consumed drink. If the burp, or loudness bothers her, there is no sign. "Stout, that is what you be."

Irshya leans forward and whispers something into Slix's ear, and then kisses her on the cheek once more. Giggling, the Gobbo hops down from the stool.

"Irshya is no missus, so please just call her Irshya. Also, if you try giving her a hand when she has asked you not to... you may not get that hand back." Her grin is broad, and filled with many shark-teeth. She leans a moment against Patch, hugging once more. "Irshya is going to go clean up. See you in a bit?" The pool-shark waves to the others, "Irshya will be back later!"

The bartender has yet to be identified, but a brow quirks but at the words. Then her face grows crimson. Doubly so after the smooch. She blinks at the shark gobbo, her reaching under the bar and pulling out a glass spray bottle. It has a label in draconic on it. A hefty spritz-spritz is shot at her boss. "Fraternization is for off duty!" she echoes, giggling before putting the spray bottle way.

She flinches at the belch, but gives a thumbs up, and yet another flagon is filled and slid over to Dirk. "One more fo' tha lad."

She gestures towards Dirk, her looking at Patch as a hand waves the boss off in goodbye. "Yeah, Dirk's a good man."

Dirk chuckles quietly at Patch. "I do try," he says. "But it -is- true. 's a wee bit like a dwarf's beard, I'll warrant. A perfect mood indicator!" And anyone who's seen him bristling when he's angry can certainly attest to that. He pulls at his pipe, the bowl glowing warmly in his hand. Irshya's quiet comment to him, though, has is eyes getting wide. He coughs on a lungful of pipe smoke, thumping at his chest as he shrinks away from her goblinesque wrath. "Heek! Y-yes'm," he says meekly. "Won't bring it up again. Apologies." He's rescued by the appearance of fresh mead, and he bolts the mug down with all the grace and aplomb of the first. "Aye, we dwarves do love our brew," he says to Patch, grateful for the change in conversation. There's much less risk of death by gobbowrath that way. "Keeps ye warm on a cold, snowy night. Or a rainy night, as the case may be." He just can't help but preen a little bit when he's called 'stout', puffing up his burly chest with a chortle. He cuts an uncanny resemblance to his little owl Lulu, when she's fluffing her feathers. People really -do- look like their pets.

Something about Irshya's departure has the dawn elf again flustered and blushing as the woman crosses by her when she goes. She returned that hug, nodding to the small gobbo-woman "I'll be around tonight, Irshya." a mead hoisted towards her as she departs, a lingering glance following her until she's out of sight.

"She really is a generous sort." Patch muses, tuning to the birdtender with a raised brow. "You really keep a bottle for Aelwyn behind the bar?" she gets out, laughing as her mug is set down. "Honestly?" a moment to contemplate it. "Does it work?" she has to ask. Really that's not the only thing she's curious about, a finger tracing the rim of her drink, and leaning after the other elf in whisper. "If it's not too much, I too am curious about those words Irshya shared." wetting her lips with a brush of tongue after her words. "I do enjoy a good birdblush." a wink cast at the woman.

Dirk wins a nod and large smile, Patch laughing at his talk of brew, and his banter of the two before. "Oh, don't be so formal, Master dirk. We're all good friends here, and work and play gets a bit mixed.... but we'll make sure you pull your weight if you must." a firm nod following the words.

The snow elf tender bobs her head. "Aye, yeah, ya'll do. It was either that, stone, or metals ta trade witc'ya'll," she drawls. "I think m'home had ta figure out some basics fo' makin' th' stuff just so we 'ad somethin' ta trade ya'll!"

Sky blue eyes rest on Patch, and she leans in as well. "Well... ya see. It would be a secret, but ya already know the recipe, honey," she coos warmly back at her, a hand reaching out to pat Patch atop the head before pulling back and laughing.

"Haven't tried the bottle on him yet, but I'm pretty sure it'll work after a few times," she reports. A thought to ponder. "Pretty sure." Nod nod.

Dirk offers Irshya a wave as she takes her leave, then turns his attention back to the others. Patch gets a soft, rueful chuckle. "Well, I try not tae be too informal where it's not wanted," he says. "Some tallfolk can get their knickers in a twist right quick wi' just the wrong word." He pauses. "But then again, Irshya isnae really tallfolk, is she? Hrm. Bad anecdote. I'll think o' summat else." His attention gets drawn to the spray bottle, and he squints at the label. Sadly, it's all Draconic to him, but lucky for him, there's Patch to translate. "Wait a tick. That... that's fer -Aelwyn-?" Blink blink. He doesn't -quite- bust out into guffawing gales of mirth. It's more than a chuckle, maybe more of a chortle, really. "Oh ho ho, poor lad. Wonder what he did tae earn 'im -that-!" He lifts his mug, going to tip it back, but pauses with it halfway to his mouth. "There's nae a bottle back there wi' -my- name on it, is there?"

"Nah, Dirk. I doubt you could get as worked up as Aelwyn." Patch says, pausing for a moment in thought. "Well, I do think you could. Just not in the same way." having to check her thoughts before completing her sentence, and laughing.

It's when the woman coos, and pats her head that Patch's eyes broaden, something striking her in realization. "No, again?!" this being the second time such a disguise has taken her for a fool. It's not that she isn't looking for Slixvah, but it's hard to keep track of all the shapes, this being one she has /not/ seen before. "You're getting real good at this kind of work." she notes, her ears drooping as she finally finishes her mead. "And here I... " pausing. "Wait, didn't Irshya kiss..." another pause, and a loud laugh. "Well, that explains a bit."

The bartender bursts out laughing, a trilling, whistling sort of soft sound. "Yeah, it's fo him. He's a bit... feisty? Needs ta cool down a bit sometimes." She gestures to Patch, her grin wide. "Yeah. I don't think you'll have a bottle with your name on it. You don't aggressively hit on me."

That grin grows wide, and she's laughing loudly, clutching her gut before she jabs a thumb at her sternum. "Bwahahaha! It is I! Slix! Yeah I'm getting the hang of it!"

Which, then, her face flushes some. "... yeah um, that was the first time she did that. She's just glad to be off such a busy as heck shift," she rubs her neck. "Ain't complainin', but even she ain't immune from the spray bottle."

Dirk all but melts with relief. He wipes the back of his hand over his brow and flicks imaginary sweat away. "Whew!" He chortles, pushing his mug over to be refilled. He looks between Slix and Patch, idly pulling at his pipe. He settles back in his seat, puffing a couple artful smoke rings. But then, there's the big reveal. He's boggled. Perhaps even baffled. "Wait. Wait wait wait... -Slix-?" Blink blink. "Beards o' me fathers, that... that's some impressive illusionary there, lassie! I didn't know ye could do -that-!" He looks down at himself, patting his hefty middle. "Wonder if -I- could manage summat like that. Maybe take off ten pounds or so..."

"Or gain ten in my case?" Patch muses after Dirk's words. Slixvah gets a warm glance, a subtle nod, and a coy grin. "She's got a knack for popping up in places, looking like people you'd never guess." she chimes to the dwarf, nodding her head. "And it's not like you could stand to lose some, you have a good build. Solid, and unmoving." patch notes. "I thought Makari and those who spoke the Khazdul tongue had this in common. At least, when it comes to River Rock."

"Aww, she adores you. I can tell Irshya appreciates your help and company, Slix. She's got a big heart, and a big appetite." the non-faux-elven woman muses. "I don't know about the bottle though. I've seen her tail... she can make a little water go a long ways."

Snow elf Slix pokes the sides of her cheeks and twists them, leaning forward with a playful expression. "That's meeee! Thanks sugar! I've been working hard on lookin' different, it's a lot of fun! But who knows? Maybe it'll benefit ya." She swipes his flagon, fills it back up to the brim, then slides it back over to him. "I put some of me in though in everything I become, so if you got sharp eyeballs, ya can sort it quick-like. Patch has the right of it though, I'll pop up anywhere!"

Patch's drink is refilled if she wants it to be. She chuckles, sharing the warm look before looking down to clean glasses. "Yeah, I know she do. Probably should keep a bucket for her then," she chuckles. "But... need dinner with her first, just to be sure. You know me."

Dirk takes ahold of his pipe so he can heft his mug. This one he takes a bit slower. He's had plenty to drink already, and even a dwarf's bladder has a maximum capacity. "Well, ye've always been great tae have in a scrap, fer sure!" he says to SnowSlix. "I never knew ye had such a talent fer facechangin', though!" He looks over to Patch, ducking his head sheepishly as he blushes. "Aww... that's sweet of ye, lass. Most tallfolk all seem tae think we dwarves are fat, seein' as we're built so much broader'n most. But we're built fer cold climates, so we pack on lots of extra layers."

"Am I 'tall-folk'?" Patch asks of Dirk a bit confused. She's smaller than the man, both in height and size. "I know some of my kin are exceptionally tall, but I think I am at least near average." she muses, looking down at that refilled drink.

"Thanks, Slix. Mighty kind of you to top me off." Patch says, looking over the woman with glance, letting eyes linger. "Oh, I wasn't telling you to... well, yeah. You might want dinner first." she says, thinking on her own words for the moment. "So, working into the night?"

"I can see how you'd be warm in winter, but it always takes me a few coats, and a blanket to make it here in the city. The snow and ice are terrible in winter."

SnowSlix throws a wink Dirk's way. "Appreciated! I like helping out in a scrap! And I didn't know I had talent for it either! Honestly, it's just so much fun to be different things. Very eye opening!"

She chuffs. "Naw, ain't fat. Just stout like Pattie said. I've known a lot of dwarves. And I'm just lucky I got plumage that grows in the winter to keep me warm."

Slix grins at Patch. "I could be your blanket...?" A laugh, then she waves a dismissive hand. "I know you weren't, honey. That's just my personal rule is all. Yeah, I'm night shift. You gonna keep me company through it?" she asks, smiling warmly

Dirk holds his hand flat and wiggles it side to side. "Ehh... -technically-, I suppose?" he says. "It's not often I meet an elf where I dinnae have tae crane me neck tae look 'em in the eye." He chuckles softly. "It's a bit refreshin', if I'm bein' honest. An' lets me get a better look at yer face while we're talkin' too." He grins a bit at Slix. "Well... you lasses ever need somewhere tae hide out, I've got a spare room in me cabin. It's built dwarf-tough, so it can stand up tae the strongest snowstorm. An' -I- live there, so ye know it's comfortable!" He glances down at the tobacco burning in the bowl of his pipe. "It'd be nice tae have company," he says in a slightly quieter tone.

"Might be a fun time, Dirk. You've been talking about your cabin since I met you." Patch says, flashing him a broad smile. "I'm sure we can find time. Slixvah and I often find ourselves out near the Wayfarer's." she muses, shifting at the bar, and taking a longer pull from her drink, setting the container aside.

"Of course, Sweety." Patch says in quick answer to the snow-elf. "The end of night inventory and counts in the backroom are still on my mind from last time." the elf teases, her words clearly coy as she shoots Slixvah a wink. "Offering to blanket me here and now. My goodness, how bold."

Standing from her seat, Patch gives a quick stretch to sort her stiffness and body out. "Going to go fix up my hair, and get my hurdy-gurdy out of the locker.... I'll be back, and then I'll play you something. Both of you."

SnowSlix's gaze turns soft as she glances to Patch, and she gives a slow nod towards the hunter. "Aye laddie, we'll keep that offer right in mind. Give me the directions to your hovel, and we'll fly on by," she mentions to him in his native tongue, her quite fluent in it. Well, she did mention her home traded with the Khzad frequently. <Khzad-dul>

She blinks at Patch, face going red as she laughs. "Yes, so much inventory. And it's cold! I'm a good blanket I tell ya! Course I'd be so bold!" she fires back readily. But she perks up and smiles bright. "Oh! Sweet! Looking forward to it! I'm gonna get the rest of these folk, hollar if you need anything!"

She smiles, winks to the two, then scurries off to help other patrons.

-End Scene-