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| Family Reunion; Open to anyone in Jethro's Expedition | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 8 2011, 09:00 PM (225 Views) | |
| Adelind Jilocasin | Oct 8 2011, 09:00 PM Post #1 |
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The bar was crowded, far too many people for Elison's tastes. If this wasn't the only place around to get decently priced ale that didn't taste like rat piss she would be gone. As it was, the half-elf had holed herself up in a shady corner and glared at any man (or woman) who tried to make a pass at her. It didn't help much. A small woman glaring at you for flirting was apparently more cute than intimidating. Eli deliberately tried to sit up straighter, but stopped when she realized that it would only draw more attention to her. Attention was worse than cute, and no matter how hard she tried five-three would never be that impressive. Maybe she should just avoid eye contact altogether? Yes, just focus on eating her meal and finishing off her pint. That way she could get out of this place before anyone actually tried to start a conversation deeper than some lame pick up line. The half-elf sighed and started eating again. She normally wasn't this bad in crowded places. It was probably all the staying around in one place that was getting to her. Madrid was a nice enough place, but after over two months it was probably time to move on. There were plenty of jobs in places that weren't here, Eli should probably get to finding them. |
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| Deleted User | Oct 9 2011, 02:57 PM Post #2 |
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"I will not give more than their share Jethro!" As he walked into the bar he exclaimed to himself causing more than a few people to look at him then search out this 'Jethro' that he called after. "Of course you wouldn't, you cheap bastard! You know that if you give them more than just even cuts they'll work harder for you and do whatever you want." The people surrounding him were starting to back off as they started to realize that it wasn't another person that he was talking to. "Why would I want them to do whatever I wanted Jethro? All they need to do is their jobs and nothing else. I do NOT want slaves, I want a good crew!" It was now obvious to a good measure of the bar that this man was slightly off his rocker. Jethro was quite the picture, his hair all askew with a dirty face arguing with himself. If someone didn't know better he would be just another crazy moving about. His longsword was strapped to his waist, clearly displaying his family name in runes. Anyone knowing a D'Angelo would notice this sword on the man almost immediately. Jethro stopped his argument with himself abruptly and ordered a drink at the bar, thanks to the newly relinquished area of some more timid people. |
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| Adelind Jilocasin | Oct 12 2011, 06:21 AM Post #3 |
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"I will not give more than their share Jethro!" A familiar voice declared as it entered the bar. Jethro's voice. Eli, along with much of the rest of the bar looked towards the source of the noise. The face, although somewhat older than she remembered, matched the voice, but to whom was he speaking? There didn't appear to be anyone with him. Why was he here in Madrid anyway? He shouldn't be here, Eli worked hard to avoid her family, they should at least show the courtesy to not pop into bars where she was eating. Well, if Jethro was here someone then he was unlikely too look around enough to spot her. She'd just keep her head down until it was time to go. "Of course you wouldn't, you cheap bastard! You know that if you give them more than just even cuts they'll work harder for you and do whatever you want." He was. . .talking to himself. Why was he talking to himself, he never used to do that. Was he mad? Oh, now Eli really didn't want him to notice her. People would stare at the madman's sister, well half-sister, and that would just be too much. The woman prayed to whatever powers that were out there that the man stayed too wrapped up in his own conversation to recognize a familiar face. It wouldn't be a hard face to recognize either, unless whatever madness that caused him to speak to himself also touched his memory, half-elves didn't age right. Save for a few new scars, Eli's appearance had hardly changed a day in the over four years since she'd been cast out of the D'Angelo family. The half-elf kept her eyes down and head turned slightly away from the commotion. With the dim lighting and the way her hair fell over her ears she could pass for some anonymous elf. Maybe she lacked the air of arrogance that many of her father's people possessed, but she was sitting alone, purposefully separate from the crowd, that had to look something like aloofness. |
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| Nausicaa | Oct 22 2011, 10:54 AM Post #4 |
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((The assumptions made for this thread are loose.)) She'd been there for a while now, originally singing to the crowd, but having given up entertainment for a few drinks, most of which tasted rather watered down to her (though they were still enough for her that she didn't mind drinking them), she was now playing the role of an observer, watching those around her carefully. The crowd, at first, had called for her to continue singing but she had politely shook her head and declined. The naiad had charmed them enough for one day and now she just wanted to enjoy herself. As her sapphire eyes, hooded by long dark lashes, surveyed the bar, she noted the woman who seemed to have segregated herself off in the corner, caught the odd attempt of a man to try to woo her and failed—and one woman, which neither bothered nor surprised the halfling—before her eyes shifted and she looked elsewhere. It was impolite to stare. As Nausicaa laughed aside a man's pathetic attempts to try to entice her, the atmosphere of the bar was suddenly broken by a man talking to himself—Jethro. The naiad's interest was peaked as she glanced towards the voice and a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, her quiet laughter tumbling from her lips like tinkling bells. Although she hadn't thought that she would never see him again, she certainly hadn't banked on seeing him so soon. As her eyes did a quick scan of the bar—most of the patrons were now staring in Jethro's general direction, including the woman in the back, though she perhaps looked less shocked than all of the rest; Nausi couldn't be absolutely certain from this distance. As chance would have it, Jethro happened to take a seat beside the naiad, though he apparently had no recollection of who she was. And it was very difficult to forget Nausicaa's pallid skin, the curvature of two long horns that extended from either side of her head like a ram's, along the edge of her jawline and past her face. It was also difficult to forget her distinct lack of clothing and the way her tresses tumbled like water down her back. Clearly, Jethro was too absorbed in his own personal conversation to notice. "You ought not to talk to yourself if you want a good crew. People find that those who talk to themselves are generally mad. And the only way you'll get a crew then is if they are slaves." She glanced out at the crowd again, most of whom had turned back to their conversations, forgetting about the crazy man for the time being. All but the woman in the back who looked... Concerned, for lack of a better term. And decidedly reclusive, at that. "Someone doesn't look very happy to see you, Jethro," Nausicaa commented, her mischievous eyes turning with her head to indicate the odd woman. "Do you know each other?" She spoke to him as if they were friends but had no way of knowing if he outright remembered her, but Nausicaa wouldn't be offended. However distinctive their meeting had been in her mind, what with the satyr involved as well, there was a good chance that it had probably seemed at least somewhat normal to Jethro and therefore not at all memorable. |
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| Risty | Nov 5 2011, 11:57 AM Post #5 |
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"Hm, where do I go from here..." Risty voiced the question aloud, twiddling the glass of ale in her hand. She stared into the cup, watching the tannish liquid swirl around - it had been a few weeks since she had arrived in Madrid, and she was thinking about moving on. This bar was said to house a rival performer for the evening, a naiad with a voice to die for - it wasn't easy for a musician to make nearly as much coin when most paying customers disappeared to listen to another. Not that the coin was the most important, but it would be good to making a bit more than enough for a glass of ale. "Oh, what do you say, Snow?" The wolf glanced up at her from his place on teh floor, resting at her feet. The icy blue eyes moved with his head as he shook it - well, so much for that piece of help. The dark-haired woman turned at the sound of a man arguing with another...as did a few other patrons in the bar. Hazel eyes scanned the man for whom he was talking to, wondering if he may behind him or even the small fairies some came across when traveling. She blinked when she realized that the man was having a shouting argument with himself - never one to judge a person by the way they spoke to...themselves, the musican shrugged and looked around the bar - many had returned to their own conversations as the crazy man took a seat at the bar, but there was one woman in the corner...she looked, well, worried out of her wits. Risty smiled a bit and put her glass down, straightened out her vest and beckoned for Snow to follow her to the odd woman's table. "'Scuse me, Miss? Are you alright?" she asked her slowly, standing at the elf's side. "You look a little...jittery maybe?" |
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