Fancy and Bloody Coffin

Log Info

• Title: Fancy and Bloody Coffin

• Emitter: Aelwyn

• Characters: Aelwyn, Murder, Slixvah

• Place: The TarRaCe

• Summary: In which Murder and Slixvah try to get Aelwyn to wear more armor before the ladies delve into gossip.

It's a lazy morning in the TarRaCe. Most of the morning crowd has already disappeared, leaving few of the crew to clean the house, take the dishes, pay the fiddler and frown at the crowd they managed to dispersed.

On the other hand, a ruddy sith-makar was sitting on a large table by the corner. Hand on his cheek, he holds up a... chain shirt. Then slowly lets the links click as he lowers it down. He did not seem very impressed. Other leather bits and wear, including an actual red shirt, was strewn about the table; as well as fresh belts and pouches.

Aelwyn had been at it for a good solid hour by now. Why was soldier fashion so stupid?

GAME: Murder rolls stealth: (16)+11: 27
GAME: Aelwyn rolls perception: (14)+1: 15
GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (16)+13+2: 31

The little shadow weaves through the remains of the dispersing crowd, as many smol folk are wont to do, to avoid being trampled or carried away by the flow of the crowd. She slips under Aelwyn's table as he is admiring? the chain shirt. She scuttles around his feet, and stands up behind him. With a little hop, she's onto and climbing up his back, to rest her head between his horns. "Whatcha doin'?", Murder wonders of the ruddy-scale Sith. "Thinkin' of getting some metal?"

The usual nighttime bartender hasn't been present on her shifts as of late. No, she's not skimping out, she's actually just on a mini-break. That doesn't stop her from utilizing the facilities however, as a human woman pads out of the bathhouse, her red hair all spilled out as she ambles up to Aelwyn in a pink shirt, a brown robe, and colorful cyan pants with a wet towel thrown over her shoulder. "You been workin' on that since I went inta th' baths, Flutter," she coos, grinning. "Tha' hard ta pick somethin'?"

She spies the little shadow slinking through, used to keeping an eye out for her boss popping up out of no where, but she doesn't say anything, an easy to read amused expression on her visage.

Aelwyn lets out a rough, quiet grunt as his back gets hopped onto. At this point, in here? He was more than expecting to get jumped on. And not in that way.

"Tch, only because she didn't invite me with her," Aelwyn calls out to Slixvah, quite pointedly tilting his head back to make Murder's life a bit more shakier. Reaching up, he cracks his head towards the side. "This one does not understand how one can make a chain shirt be more than..."

The garment is reached out. It looks like a chain shirt, like any regular soldier would wear. Solid. Good build. Utterly boring. "This one has been thinking of ribbons. But it feels as if blasphemy."

Then he flashes his teeth at Murder. "This one already bought all of these. At a discount."

The tilting seems to have been expected by the Gobbo, as she's not dissuaded from climbing. She does miss, however, getting her teeth onto Aelwyn's horns. Though once he stops, there's a light gnawing feeling. "Adding stuff to the chain shirt would probably reduce it's effectiveness. Have you thought about alternatives to the alternatives?" She wiggles her fingers in front of his eyes. "Maaaaagic. Or just... throw on something colourful over it. A shirt. A cape. A selection of gaudy belts. Paint it a different colour."

Murder eyes the things on the table. "You bought all of them? But you can't possibly wear them all at the same time... don't you dare."

Not-Slix snorts, rolling her sky blue eyes. "Then ya ain't ever gonna get done pickin' somethin'," she points out, watching Murder get tossed about with a quiet giggle.

The human woman bobs her head once, gesturing red nails towards the gobber. "Yep yep. Easy ta layer stuff on top of boring. You cooooooould go and get th' metal stained! Lot's of alchemy things can make the metal a different color!" she suggests. "Or you could- oh oh oh! Get it treated so tha' it's crimson normally, but when ya do ya fire stuff, the metal changes color to a hot orange!"

Aelwyn tilts his head, all the way towards the side. 'Ribbon and Shortie have a point.' As his own ribbons fell over towards the side. 'It would match well with "Flawme roux".' The Dragoon grins. Where was his glaive, anyway?

He hoists up the chain shirt. Then gives it another shake, making its hooded part flop over. It was obviously designed for sorts that are not sith-makar with tall horns. 'This one has to leave this open. One won't suffer suffocation for sake of armor. And this one has to wear all of these.' After all, he bought them.

Shirt placed back down, he glances towards Slixvah. 'This one appreciates Ribbon's new look.' He glances towards Murder. 'Should she too get the same magical treatment?' <draconic>

Murder uses one of Aelwyn's horns to hang on while he tilts his head all the way to one side. "It's almost like you don't want me to be here.", she comments quietly. Hopping down from his head and shoulders, the Gobbo shrugs. "I already have magical assistance with my armor, this is why I am only wearing leathers." She eyes Aelwyn once more. "Not all of these things are going to work well together.", she says with a huff. "Especially stuff that's made for an average human dude." The Gobbo sighs. "You went with all the cheapest stuff again, didn't you?"

Human Slixvah raises a brow. "Das a good name, gonna assume it's fo ya glaive, yeah?" She looks at all the pieces, brows furrowed. "Eh. You ain't gotta wear it all. Maybe can like, put the leather stuff on one or both arms, let the chain do the body, get th' hood snipped off," she suggests in her fashionable manner.

Blinking at Murder's point, the human leans in squinting as she appraises. "... hmm. Yeah, uh, you prolly ain't gonna wanna skimp on this stuff. Maybe... shoot. Maybe ya might wanna go to Mictlan ta get some armor made for ya? I sure theres a Crafter Caste up there that make somethin' that'd actually fit ya well."

She snaps a finger towards Aelwyn. "I always look like this in here, but thank ya! But uh. Ye. Magic armor, good shtuff. Honestly, ya could probbably get somethin' that is plain but magics ta /look/ stylish."

Aelwyn gives Murder's ankles a light slap with the end of his tail. "Tch, she keeps gnawing at this one's horns. This one just redecorated them." He wiggles his head again, then flicks his tongue out. "Only if she plays nice."

The Dragoon leans back and gestures. "They were _discounted_, a _killer deal_ with unforeseen pricing drop. Deflation in the inflated market." He had no idea what he was talking about. It was very shrewd talk from the lower trades, though.

"Hmmh. This one could go to Mictlan, this one supposes. Yet this one paid a good coin. Besides, there has to be that looks good without magic. And holds my spears." The not-Slix gets a pointed stare, before he turns towards Murder. "And a Shortie."

The Goblin peers at Slixvah a moment. "Grr-arggghhh is the name of his glaive?" She blinks owlishly and looks to Aelwyn. "Stabitha wasn't a good enough name?" She crosses her arms and huffs again at the tail slap to her legs. "I'm not doing any damage to your horns at all. Not even scratches." One of her eyebrows attempts to leave her face as it arches upwards quickly, while the other one partially obscures her eye as it lowers.

"Douscounted, killer deals because I gotta dump this stock that no one else wanted ... Ya need to have someone go with you when you got shoppin', Aelwyn."

Not-Slix snickers at the gnaw-business, but she shakes her head with a frown. "There's like, four things ya don't cheap out on. Wagon wheels, shoes, beds, and armor," she lists off on her fingers.

A snort escapes her. "Yes yes. Perhaps can get some leather straps ta be stirrups or somethin' ta stand in. But hey Stabitha /is/ a good name!"

She slides into a seat, gesturing off towards Murder. "Yeeeah. Uh. Ya need a shoppin' buddy."

Aelwyn gestures with his hand. "Tch, this one knows a scam from one. This one lived in bazaars near half his life. Most of the time what one pays for is what one gets, but is not one what wanted." He makes a pointed point at the things on the table. "And this one wanted these." Even if they were, a bit suspiciously undervalued.

The name 'Stabitha' makes him click his teeth for a moment. "Hmmh. Flame that Stabs?" He wonders by himself, in common speak.

Murder's eyes narrow at Aelwyn, "You got scammed. The quality might be decent, but it will not fit you properly. If you are wearing armor that isn't fitting properly... you may as well dance naked for all the protection it won't give. The hood on that chain shirt isn't to protect you against the rain... it's to protect your head from blows. Not the wind kind either." She lets out a sigh.

"You intentionally bought a non-suit of armor? Because it was pretty?"

Not-Slix shoots a brow up on high. "Well, don' come cryin' ta me if ya armor got stabbed through. I'll fix ya up but I'll say 'told ya so'," she shrugs, taking up Murder's mindset of 'this is totally going to bite the Dragoon in the rear later'.

The human tilts her head towards Murder, a deadpan expression on her face. "Ya clearly ain't know Aelwyn long enough. It was hard enough ta get him ta wear the damn uniform workin' here."

Aelwyn looks between the two. Then he clicks his teeth - very audibly. "Or perhaps the two of them do not understand, that one's first and only important armor is oneself." He rumbles, then gets up. He picks up the leather roll off the side and rolls up the bits and pieces onto it.

Sliding it over his shoulder, the draconian then shakes his head. "Heavy iron plates this one sees people wearing?" He slides his tongue out - and then whips it out. "Rendered a fancy and bloody coffin, by a mere needle."

Sliding around the table, he begins to head towards the door, turning around to point at Slix. "Late shift?" He asks, before he makes a sway with his tail at Murder. "Keep Shortie engaged, one would not wish the bar to burn down." Flash of teeth and Aelwyn is off the door.

Murder frowns at Aelwyn's parting comment. "You're the one they gotta watch!", she shouts.

Crossing her arms, the Gobbo glowers. "A needle. I seen him get stabbed and hit before. It's not like he's dodging everything. And..." She gesticulates as she continues. "He's bought the armor! How is his comment even sensible, 'Oh turned into a bloody coffin by a mere needle...' If the damn suit fit properly the needle wouldn't get in!"

Murder stamps about, still looking furious. "Gosh, so sorry that I wanted ya to not waste your coin. So sorry I don't want ya to die!"

Human Slix shakes her head. "I think we just gonna agree ta disagree there, sugar. You're slick on the field, but one misstep and ya ain't got insurance from a wayward smack."

She waves as Aelwyn goes, a chuckle escaping her. "Not for a few more days! And it ain't my problem! Later!"

Her attention shifts to Murder, expression softening as she reaches out to put a hand on their shoulder. "I kno', I kno', but Aelwyn's a bit thick headed on stuff, particularly things on him. Best thing fo' him is ta see his mistake. I've told him way too many times. Not worth' burnin' energy for it."

The Gobbo stops stamping about when the hand rests on her shoulder. "He's gonna learn by dyin'... already seen enough people die." Murder turns suddenly and thuds into Slixvah, her face burying itself in Slix' stomach. "Why is he such a jerk?"

Not Slix sighs, her reaching around to pull the gobber into a hug. Odd expectation, as it's not a fluffy, feathery one. But still warm nonetheless. "I kno' girl, I kno'," she hums, patting Murder's back. "And therein lies th' oil and water of me and him. Where we want what's best fo' him, he says he's already at his best."

"Imma kick his ass if he dies.", the Gobbo mumbles into Slixvah. "I'm gonna res him and as soon as he realizes what's happened, BAM, I'm gonna pop him in the junk." She lets out a huff of a sigh. "So if he wasn't so ornery you and he would be a thing?"

"I will gladly slap his ghost if he dies," Not Slix snickers, her rubbing Murder's back to help calm her. "Sadly that might be what it takes."

She smirks lightly, her glancing off to the bar. "Somethin' like that. We tried ta be a thing briefly, didn't really work out," she shrugs. "Way it be sometimes."

The Goblin nods, and squeezes the not-Egalrin once, before carefully extricating herself, shyness and embarrassment taking over from upset.

"I'll allow that.", she says with a snort. "Were... you two intimate?", she wonders quietly. "It's okay if you don't answer, I'd understand, but I can't help being curious."

The human releases Murder after giving her a squeeze, and she settles back into her chair. She squints. "Gonna be real wit' ya hon, kinda rude ta ask somethin' like that," she huffs. "While I may be a bit mo' promiscuous than the average person, don't mean I ain' gonna respect peoples privacy, yeah?"

Murder's expression grows thoughtful, and she nods. "I know it's rude to ask. But I wasn't doing so implying you're promiscuous in any ways. I am saying /he/ is the promiscuous one. And I'll say... ask me how I know."

Not-Slix's vaguely stern expression cracks into a guffaw. "Hah! Trust me, I kno' he is. Ain't nothin' wrong wit' it, but like I said befo' there's a /reason/ why I keep a spray bottle behind th' bar when I'm workin'. I ain't even gotta ask. I'm sure he's... met wit' a good chunk of folk I kno'."

She holds up her hand. "Add one more to the list.", she says, looking a little sullen. "I think the bottle should see more use." The GObbo starts pacing back and forth. "So uh, do you usually take different shapes here? Does it make for easier bartending?"

"Called it," Not-Slix snaps a finger. Ponders a moment. Then gives a light shrug as if making her mind up on something. "We both were too drunk ta do anything. Prolly best it be that way," she shares.

She crosses her arms and leans back on her chair, using a foot under the table to keep herself from falling over. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Well. Usually I'm jus' an illusion like this, but better dressed," she gestures to herself. Human woman, red haired, bright eyes and a wide smile. "But sometimes I gotta actually shape inta it. Wings get in the way back there. I gots some magic ta help wit' moving glasses around. And uh, while I /love/ bein' me, lotta the locals ain't used ta dealin' wit' egalrin, so..." A shrug.

"I think that you have the power t'change it, though, right? What if one out of every ten times you were you? People would get used ta it. I mean, the lady who owns the place is obviously not just a Goblin. People don't seem to mind that." Murder quietly paces over to the bar.

"Speaking of drinking, did ya want a little something? I'll spot ya beer or a shot of your choice, eh?"

Human Slix stretches and pops up out of the chair, ambling behind Murder at a lazy pace. "I could do that, buuuut...." she drawls out, holding up a finger. Which then pokes her cheek and twists about as she leans forward with a big smile. "I look sooooooooooo cute like this!"

Her sense of self-identity is quite strong, it seems.

"Hrmm. Sure. A beer is good, somethin' light, thankies, hon!" she coos as she hops up onto a stool. "Appreciated!

Murder giggles and waves a hand at Slixvah, pulling herself up onto a stool beside the woman. "I figure it is only fair for askin' ya a rude question. Smooth some... ruffled feathers." She asks the oruch woman tending bar for two beers, and leaves a few silvers spinning on the bartop. "So lemme tell you about Seldan and the Crimson Pen. We were lookin' for the murderer of that famous Crimson Pen author, ya remember the lady? Well... she knew somehow she was in danger... put clues into many of her works..."

Slixvah pats Murder on the back. "No harm no foul," she chirps. There's a respectful nod towards the bartender- her coworker- before turning to look at Murder with a slowly building grin.

She leans in. "... spill it the tea, girl..."

The Goblin starts into the murder mystery by spilling the details of the Crimson Pen article about Seldan and Malik. And then gets into the keywords the adventurer investigators had to search for, from a pile of Crimson Pen novels. The salacious details of which make even the Oruch bartender blush brightly, and move off to studiously clean the same section of the bar over and over again. "... and when we found the book and opened it... it was hollowed out and contained a rod suspiciously shaped like a man's thing. It was the KEY!"

Slixvah listens with rapt attention, her grin growing wider and wider. She has no shame, the story something saucy and juicy, that apparently had several folks that she knew well. At the end, she bursts into laughter. "Oh my gods, that hilarious! But hey, I'm glad ya'll figured it out. Maaan, what I would give ta be a fly in that room wit' everyone tryin' ta read th' stuff aloud."

There is a pause. Then, a slow, sweet, innocent smile plays across her face. A few more coins are fished out, another round of beers are ordered. And that smooth talking diplomat subtly requests, "... so, that one wit' story ya mentioned wit' the blue fishy woman..."

She slides the drink over to Murder. "... how did that one go again? Spare no details."

-End Scene-