* Ciara turns a baffled look on the strange little boy who is drinking milk and summarily cursing humankind. The look he gives her should be coming from someone far older, and Ciara's brows lift as she turns back to Zera and struggles to piece her thoughts back together. "That isn't so terribly old. I was waiting for you to really shock me." Before answering the question, Ciara drains the rest of her whiskey and signals for yet another. She doesn't appear drunk yet, but obviously Ciara is looking to numb a few things, physical or otherwise. "Do you gamble, Zera? I figure I'm playing the odds here. I can only fight so many wars, take so many hatchets to the belly or spears through the chest. My luck can't hold forever and the gods have already given me one reprieve." That she'd died when she killed Elbryan is something that only Narcissa and Stasi really know. The Tribunal made good on their bargain and held her from the light while her body was patched together enough that she could survive. Ciara will be paying that debt for the rest of her life, however long it may be. "I suppose my chances for survival would be better if I didn't live in the land of a thousand-and-one catastrophes." With that, she grins again, unbothered by the thought of her own mortality.
-Lollita- -It had been a long trek from Auvrynon to this little town in the mountains, but she had made it finally, and though she had arrived that morning, she was only now getting around to visiting the tavern she had heard a few people speak about. The woman was particularly short, to be honest, not even touching a full five feet, her height causing her to look child-like if one were actually peering at her. That was all dispelled, however, by the way the woman was developed, created to be the perfect woman of a madman; she held everything a woman should, physically, though her mental and magical abilities could certainly be considered a severe drawback. She wore a set of black pants, which she had purchased from a small store with the few coins she picked up on her long travel, though she was grateful to the storekeeper for being honest, since she had no real concept of money exchange. The pants were snug on her legs and bout her waist, which hung far too low on her hips, a thick teal ribbon tied, the bow at the base of her slender back. She had not, however, changed her top since she had donned it days before, and it looked to be something that should be the under-part of a gown. It was little more than the top half of a teal bodice, its heart-shaped top fitting snugly over her chest, there only by the grace of the straps upon her shoulders. The long narrow braid slid along her back, swaying back and forth with every step, her bare feet shown, her limp evident in the leg she favored. Now flicking a teal piece of hair from the corners of her froggy green eyes, she paused a moment to study the innards of the room, gaze sparked with curiosity.
Wind-Racer shot a look back to the kid, as Ciara is now caught in an awkward stare with Gregory. Zera didn't really think twice about the being; he already knew just by the boy's aura that he was much older than what is perceived by others, and perhaps he could have even informed Bart that so the kid could get his drink on. But quite honestly, the elf didn't really care he was here to relax, exhaustion had gotten to him the past few days he was tired, and didn't feel like arguing with Bart about something a human would have no clue about. He downs half of his glass, than sets it on his thigh. "Well…that makes sense…Ciara, I think for all your trouble on the physical plane…you will be paid greatly on the spiritual."
* Gregory Fenix let out a little "ahhhhh" as she began to describe her faculties in these mountains. She was one of those responsible for the protection of his nearly human great grandchildren. Hopping down to the floor he scurried around and snatched a bottle before the keep noticed, leaving a suitable amount of coppers for it, and made his way over to Ciara and Zera's table. He finished his milk, and refilled the glass with cooking sherry. It was a little cloudy for the film of milk he'd left at the bottom of the glass, but it did not matter. He knocked it back all the same, and hopped to the chair closet to Ciara, giving her a wide childlike smile before his features were dragged back to a curmudgeon's glower. "This land houses my grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Are the odds so terrible, or do you merely take more than your fair share of danger?" He smiled, the edges of his eyes wrinkling on his young face. His missing eye, the puckered hole, wrinkled in a horrifying fashion. "Perhaps you need for someone to weep for you. How long has it been since the phoenix last burned your night skies here?" His little legs swung beneath his chair, and for someone in a yellow patterned nightgown, he seemed awfully serious. He eyed Zera a hard one as the man glanced over him, but otherwise did not bother himself.
-Halekial- *Though not formally, the door of the Bitter Tree Tavern introduces him to the assembled patrons before he can even do so himself, the whine of the rust-stained hinges making such an announcement. No matter, his bright orange eyes glisten with a geniality that is the whole of his person, the wind that comes with him, from outside, howling past him and whooshing through the place as if with a vengeance, threatening to snuff out the raging inferno of fire that is so alive and well in the hearth somewhere off to the side and back of the place. Soon after, that door is closed, and he is trapped inside, inside with all these monsters and brutes and drunkards and thieves! But really, he doesn't mind the lot. And even though he knows nothing of said lot, he does know that someone in the crowd meets the requirements of said titles, even to the very slightest degree. But doesn't everyone have a monster inside? A brute? A thief? A drunkard? One must think so, for you do not have to actually drink, to be drunk. You do not have to actually steal, to be a thief. Lying is akin to stealing. And overeating can be likened to drinking. The concepts remain the same, if anything, and so he trots forth, a gait that is paced by good-cheer, his flowing robes billowing as they tumble in an avalanche of fabric. Well, maybe there's an exaggeration, for they're not so flowing as to make one think of a bride's wedding dress or think of excessive volume and folds. No, it's a tad bit much of what can be considered normal, for fabric. That's all fine and good, especially in the wintertime. But, in either case, it doesn't affect him much, as his mahogany skin and flame-formed eyes and hair speak of someone who is bred of fire. It rages and roars, running through him like a river. He sighs, out of habit now, on the few occsions he's been here, to go immediately to the table somewhere near the middle of the Tavern, if not more towards the back. He slips in the seat in silence, really making no eye contact. He doesn't have to look to see that there is all sorts of new people here. And Halekial, at times, is sometimes shy. And so it is...*
* Lollita turned her head slightly as the door swung open behind her, the resulting rush of wind tossing that braid about her body, and sending every tendril of teal hair to flopping in her face. One of her white gloved hands carefully flicked the lot of it aside, so that it all lay to the left side of her eyes, gathered there as neatly as if the look had been purposeful. She carefully shifted her weight from her injured foot, her naturally curious gaze studying the newest addition to the innards of the place. Of course her curiosity on the man was soon overpowered by her pressing need to get off her foot, and she was reminded of it as a searing pain shot up the back of her calf. However, as she grasps the back of the nearest chair the man sweeps right passed her without so much as flicking a look her way, and takes over the table she had been about to commandeer for herself. A full lower lip promptly pokes out in a pout, her eyes filled with sorrow over the loss of her table, as if it had been some sort of person whom had been killed in that second. Tugging on her braid she pushes off the chair she had been about to take, and carefully limps away so that she might seek out another, more empty table.
* Ciara smiles and turns her gaze back the flask, fingers tracing the engraving with an admiring glance. "I'm not looking for a reward, Zera. Just some peace and quiet. One would expect death to offer that, in spades actually." The sudden melancholy tone breaks off when the strange little nightgown-clad boy hops up beside her and begins to chat. His claims of grandchildren and talk of phoenix tears doesn't appear to surprise Ciara in the least. Either she's too versed in the concept of not judging books by their cover or she's had extensive experience talking to crazy folk. "Kuro isn't the most sedate place to live, but I wouldn't take my own commentary as a reflection of the lot everyone else endures. It goes without saying that I love trouble and it loves me right back." There's an understatement, and when Ciara looks up to Zera with a wink, it is clear that she know it. One hand absently tucks a few thick curls behind her pointed ear and she watches the kid guzzle the cooking sherry with a small wince before shoving her own bottle of whiskey toward him. "Take it, just please don't drink the sherry anymore. I don't know if a phoenix has ever come to Kuro. I've never seen one before... have you, Zera?"
-Halekial- *Just because Halekial made no eye contact initially, doesn't mean he wouldn't have now. Because he does, his gaze having been raised and focused on not one person or thing for too long, the kind of thing where one scans their surroundings briefly, just to get their bearings, get the feeling of what's in store, if anything. Before Lollita's look could fade into nonexistence, he catches the crestfallen, almost sad look that cakes her face, covers her eyes. He blinks, wondering what is the matter. And then, he realizes something. He had felt someone behind him on his way here. She had come in right after him, and maybe she had been expecting a greeting from the handsome fellow! Mmm, he doesn't really think-think this, but it does go through his head. Forgive him. And so, he inclines his head slightly, seeing that she darts at the table he is sitting at with the same affect that her eyes held. He speaks on it.* "You -can- sit here, you know." *A pause, as if to make sure his footing is true and surein the start of this hopeful conversation.* "Because, if I were you, I'd want to sit with me too." *He has no idea that it has nothing to do with him. He could be lifted up and tossed out the eastern window and she'd be just fine. She wanted her darn table! But you can't tell him anything...well, you could, but he probably won't listen, the hardheaded bastard! o.O*
* Wind-Racer looks between the two chatting, his eyes were obscured by a curtain of white tendrils, which he now sweeps away with a glove clad hand. "You will certainly find peace Ciara…I'm sure of it." He didn't mind talking about the afterlife, to him there was nothing morbid about it. One should age gracefully and look at death as nothing but another chapter in an epic story. Well, that was his outlook anyway. He drains his cup of whiskey before slamming it on the bar, and now Bart decides to slide the half-breed a whole bottle. When Ciara asks him about seeing a Phoenix, he responds with: " Can't say I'm familiar with their kind in general Ciara." He looks to Gregory once again, there is no expression upon his face, but lethargy is blatant in his eyes.
* Gregory Fenix "Two were reborn amongst these mountains this last week, and their children grow strong, despite the human blood they share." he assured her. As she pressed her whiskey upon him he took it with a nod, filling his glass with five fingers worth, and mumbled a "thank you" before taking up the large glass in two hands, slurping the fiery amber liquid. "Dragons, sphinx, phoenix; all manner of ancients live hidden in these mountains." he went on, cheeks growing a little pink from drink. "I like the sherry." he complained after a moments though, but corked the bottle all the same. "These mountains house half of my heart, you'll forgive my interest then, when I hear that you are amongst its protectors. My name is Gregory Fenix of the house of Fire and Ice." He offered out a plump little hand to her, and a wink. In honesty it was a blink, one cannot wink with only one eye, but it was cheeky nonetheless. "They are not known for their kindness, that much is true, but their tears hold more life than an angel's kisses."
* Lollita paused in her pathetic and particularly dramatic little limp across the room as the mans poke behind her, turning her head in order to glance back at him. Of course his words do good to replace her pathetic little pout with a ready, wide, and bright grin. Immediately deciding she liked the man, as her decisions on such things were often based on her first impression of a person, she turned about to limp right back to the table he had stolen from her. "Why would you want to sit 'ere if it were you?" She asked, the accent that colored her bright tone rather thick, though not so much so that one could not understand what she said. (Think heavy French) She carefully tugged the chair out, which seemed to be quite a task for the diminutive little woman, she carefully slipped herself into it, a gentle sigh leaving her lips as she is able to take her weight off of her bandaged injured foot. Carefully rotating her ankle she taps the table a few times with the tips of her particularly small looking gloved hands, her eyes watching the man expectantly as she waited for his answer, that grin still spread over her full lips.
-Halekial- *And then, that once-glowing, solid expression becomes pale and almost-transparent, liquified into shame and shock, a more dramatic mix than the limp of the woman who had struggled his way. He hangs his head momentarily, before raising it again to assume the position of conversation, staring fully into her big eyes.* "Wow, I am....truly sorry. I would have come to you instead." *He has the urge to ask her what happened, but decides not to, that probably too late in the evening for that and too early in their relationship of acquaintance. Everything has its place, and there would room for that in the near future. He's something of a psychic when it comes to things that are more probable than not, such as people dying and paying taxes. In truth? He really isn't! Well, at least, not to the point that he can be considered a practicing psychic, especially regarding matters so mundane as now. He sighs, shaking his head, before he casts aside all of the negative thoughts that pop into his head in such rapid succession, brows furrowing as he struggles to hear, burrowing through the accent that is as thick as molasses. Is it...French? He never was strong in the language department. And then, he decides to answer he question, brows smoothing out as her question comes to a close.* "Well, I guess you got me there. You have found me out? I was hinting at joining YOU all along. " *He breaks in his diatribe, before shrugging his shoulders, the pose held in the high position before being let down after he says.* "I'm a sucker for pretty girls..." *Light-hearted smile that shows pearly teeth.*
* Ciara 's brows furrow a little when she notices that Zera seems to have lost much interest in conversing. It is a habit of his that she's noticed, going quiet when others are around, and it makes Ciara want to draw him out more. "I have met a sphinx and many dragons but a phoenix is a new one for me." Ciara should probably feel guilty for giving what has the appearance of a child a very large bottle of whiskey, but she doesn't. "I'm Ciara, and this is Zera Redmoon."
* Lollita shifts her bottom upon her seat, brushing off what he was saying with a shake of her head, teal shorthairs sliding about the corner of her eye. "Eet ees fine." She said, leaning back in her seat, more then happy to be off that foot. At his words she promptly clapped her palms together, the sound muted thanks to her gloves, and her grin broadening. Her laugh spills out rather brightly, a high and clear sound of pure joy and elation. "Oh I like you." she said, nodding her head to accompany her words, quite secure in the idea that she was fond of the man she knew not a thing about.
* Wind-Racer had a reason for being as reclusive as he was. One that perhaps, Ciara herself, didn't know about. He was not a proclaimed protector of Kuro, but rather a cell. An unknown set of eyes an ears, constantly watching and listening from the shadows, to preserve all that is good in this place. Though the Black mountains are not where he originates from, he has made this place his home and vowed to Narcissa that he would do what he can to protect the citizens of this place from any that wish to impose harmful intent upon them. The elf trusts very few, and was actually hoping his name was not spoken in front of this small creature he knows nothing about, but alas he trusts Ciara's judgment and when he is introduced, he offered Gregory a bow of his head. "Well met Phoenix kin."
* Gregory Fenix slurped idly on his whiskey, content to nod to both introductions. He assumed that Zera was a human of some kind, and was not of a talkative persuasion himself. His little features split into an appreciative grin at the whiskey, just rough enough to give his throat a little sting. "Good company to keep, if you ask me. Dragons grow more human as they age, and sphinxes are always wrapped up in their riddles. A phoenix though, there's a proper animal for you, fly high and burn bright." Slurp! He'd supped the equivalent of three drinks in as many seconds, and set his glass down to the table, peering at Zera in earnest now. "You seem to make a lot of assumptions if you think me merely kin to the phoenix." he huffed. "I have been hoping that the family might settle some land hereabouts. Are any of the mountain peaks spoken for, that you know of?"
-Halekial- *Any initial shyness that he had in the beginning has evaporated, Halekial usually put at ease by people who were also easy-going, people being girls in particular, who were pretty and who liked him. Heh! His gleaming eyes shine in their own happy way, as if trying to overpower the happiness that could be found and heard in the exit-sound of laughter. He sighs out of content, shuffling his own posterior around in the chair as he fights to get comfortable in a seat that has grown uncomfortable now. He leans forward a bit, cupping his hands together loosely, laid flat on the table. He pointedly looks at her, before he simply says.* "I know." *He is so blank-faced, if it could be said, though his eyes hold a certain pride, his lips a certain self-assurance. He knows the effects he has on people, especially when they give themselves away like Lollita. But, redeeming himself, he adds.* "Though, I must say, I think I like you too. And I know firstimpressions are oftentimes, lies...but, I can see you're just great right down to the core." *Speaking of her soul, her heart. * "I guess we’re the two luckiest people in the world, huh? " *Before she can answer, he goes.* "Must be." *Nodding his head, giving the affirmative.*
* Ciara falls quiet when the boy addresses Zera and after signaling for another bottle, Ciara absently fusses with bandage hidden by the cloak that covers her shoulders. "Not many choose to live on the peaks of this range, but you can always speak to Lady Narcissa about your interest." Speaking of Narcissa, Ciara turns back to Zera and tilts her head toward him. "And you and I have a date to speak with her ourselves. When are you free?"
* Lollita was practically in giggles at this point, her hands settled on the edge of the table as she fidgets about in her seat. The woman was, quite obviously, very easily excited. Her happiness as plain as her rage, had been at the man whom had dared to ignore her the other day in the streets of the city. He had ended up pelted with several rocks, most of which caught him in the eye and left knee. Finally calming herself, though she never quite stopped fidgeting around in her chair, she grinned brightly at the man. "Well I guess you must be right!" She announced, loud enough to be heard well above what chatter could be going on in the room, though she didn't seem to care how loud she spoke. "I am a very likable person, I 'ear" she says, obviously not worried about looking too cocky or self-assured. "Eet ees easy to get along with me." That is as long as you are being pleasant and everything is going her way. Any other time and you'd likely be on the receiving end of a pelting of rocks.
* Wind-Racer absently stares at Gregory for a moment, as it seems he may have offended him in some way. Of course Zeratul meant not to do this, but it was obvious the elf was overly tired. Again he nods to the boy and speaks quietly. "I meant no offense to you, forgive me it's been a long week." He shifts his attention to Ciara when she turns to speak to him. "I'm not meeting my Alchemist friend for about another week m'lady…so whenever a good time for you is…do you know where my cottage is in the Cascades?" Maybe a silly question since not many actually do know of its location, but he figured maybe Narcissa might have told her at some point.
* Gregory Fenix shifted his weight on the chair, grumbling under his breath as he adjusted something tied down by his waist. "Nothing up there but lying tombstones and the occasional giantess, it is soothing." he informed her brightly, his fidgeting beneath the table done. "Nothing to forgive, and it seems you've business enough between the two of you." He snatched the first bottle of whiskey and hopped down from the table, turning for the door. The little man would make his way back out into the snows, drinking as he did so, and wander his way back to the Silver Scroll where his family had a bed and a warm hearth waiting for him.
-Halekial- *He is delighted by the purity of sound that he hears, one that is mirthful, free of stress and worry. Ahhh, but he catches that fidgeting of hers, and speaks on that too, the observant little thing...* "Guess we both have the wiggles too." *And to prove the point, just to add to the effect and add meaning behind the words, he purposely wiggles around in his chair, as if fighting for position in line or jostling for the affections of some girl, beating back the boy-competition. It's like that, his glistening eyes speaking volumes as he intones.* "What's...your name?" *Oh, he can only imagine how she is when things aren't going her way. No one thought about such alternative sides though. Much is the mistake people make when they say they like someone so much that they move in with them, only to be horrified and annoyed to the point of either killing each other or moving out. The situation can be likened to that, perhaps, because everyone has sides to themthat are a bit abrasive. Even good ole perfect-as-you-can-get Halekial! XD *The leaned-in position he had has been surrendered as he falls back into the high-postured, at-attention, back-against-the-chair seating, hands resting in his lap now.*
* Lollita seemed to be taking some sort of hint, and a degree of her smile melts away as attention is pulled to her fidgeting about. Sitting perfectly still she drops her hands to her lap and carefully, slowly, leans back. As if what he said had insulted her in some way she seemed to loose a bit of her excited steam, her tongue tracing a quick path over her lips, before retreating back into her mouth once more. "My name is Lollita." She answered, speaking slowly as if that, too, had been fidgety and she needed to calm it down.
Ciara watches the child leave with bemused shake of her head, then reclaims her bottle of whiskey and fills the glass again. "I don't know where it is, but I know that Narcissa frequents the Cascades so I imagine that she does. I'll trail along with her." With a tilt of her head Ciara drains most of the drink in one long swallow, smooth as if she were drinking water. When she swallows and absently licks a few errant drops away from her lips, she glances around the tavern again to see that the crowd has dwindled, allowing her to talk a bit more freely about the demon king. "Narcissa believes that he's responsible for an outbreak of illness with the local children. Nothing is helping ease their suffering."
-Halekial- *He notes the look that melts from her face, once more confused and driven into silence. He ventures out and breaks the silence once more with the hammer of words.* "Beautiful name. It sounds like a flower or some healing ointment. And what greater thing couldju ask for??" *Yes, he did see one side of her. She's gets easily affected by certain things, maybe sensitive to those she's trying to get the attention or affection or mere friendship of. When grappling with the concept and idea of first impressions, people often are a lot more malleable and influenced by what those certain people think. She need not worry, for he was only teasing, though he leaves it unsaid, his demeanor saying it much louder than his words probably could. Well, probably not so loud...but loud enough.* "Mine is Halekial. " *Pause.* "It means 'worker of words' ." *Then, he lets that postured verticality slouch into relaxed form, shoulders slumping as he reclines in the chair, looking at her face for any reaction… one that's good of course -- like a sunshine-y 'how wonderful', or a temple-to-temple smile. Is he reaching? Hoping for too much? Who knows...girls are weird like that. Blame iton their "inner-red-tides", their "womanly circulations". Gotdarnit, estrogen does have a name and menstrual periods do also.*
* Lollita shifts a bit, as if she can't help but fidget about in her chair, that smile broadening once again upon her lips. "Worker of words?" she asked, again leaning forward to grasp the edge of the table, her excitement back in full force. Unfortunately Lolli was more then just excitable, she was terribly unpredictable... that tended to happen when one had had no time to actually develop your own personality, and was forced to cope with the odd temperaments built into your body by force. Back to fidgeting about her grin returns completely, and she leans forward fully over the table to study him rather closely. "Eet ees a very nice name." She agreed with a large nod of her head, teal hair sliding about her eyes, though she seemed to ignore it for now, leaving it where it fell.
* Wind-Racer spins his glass around in a circle on the bar, before slamming a hand down upon the top of it halting it's action. A long sigh escapes him as she speaks of Ender. Zeratul already had a pretty good idea he had something to do with the sickness amongst the children, before he left to the Shadowed Lands, a few concerned parents had brought their children to the elf, but his healing energies were useless. A gloved hand is lifted off the glass, his hands were always covered by gloves he hated those goddamn scars that twisted the flesh upon his hands. The bottle is tipped of its own accord, and the glass filled to the brim. He didn't want to think of Ender, but Gods, he had to admire Ciara's drive to want to put a stop to the demon as bad as he. "Yes, it seems like his work…I could not cure whatever they had, and I hear the hospital is being overwhelmed." Glass is brought to slightly parted lips, a side-glance casting that dark red eye over to her direction. Glass is replaced on the bar. "What do we do?"
-Halekial- *Ahhh, so the sunshine doesn't exactly reach it's afternoon zenith. No, there are stray clouds that whisper across its surface, as said sunshine-y reaction comes through in the form of a smile that does not meet the temple-to-temple requirements, but is good enough. He offers his own, one that dwarfs in comparison to her giddy facial notion of affection. * "Thank you." *He also offers a small nod of the head, everything about this man appearing diminutive now as he does everything in a 'small' way, in the span of 10 seconds. Was he afraid to act fully out? Not really, he's probably just feeling more subdued, lounging in the plush chair of care-freeness. * *It's when she leans forward that he can't help but to fidget around in his own chair again, the poor fellow. Everyone knows that when a woman leans forward, it offers men a peek into a world that is otherwise hidden. He blinks, trying hard not to look, feeling crazy because her bosom is practically hitting him fully in the face, Lollita given a "mammogram" via the face, by Dr. Halekial himself. Gotdangit, Lollita, saddown! He's a priest for goodness sake! ...But let’s move on...* "Um. hello." *Halekial's eyes her as he says it, being silly in his motion and timing, gaze meeting her chest. He clears his throat and inclines his head, gaze flowing past and targeted somewhere on her forehead, Halekial looking all together silly.* "You must...work out." *Clearing his throat, as if it were going dry. And if it were, it couldn't have been because he wasn't talking. Couldn't have been....*
* Ciara watches the glass until it stops moving, then shrugs her good shoulder and reaches out to gently take the glass from Zera to pour him a few fingers of whiskey from her bottle. By the looks of it, he could use it. "We kill him." It's a simplistic response, and not really a full solution but it is the best Ciara can offer, one problem at a time. "Enough shop talk. Tell me something I don't know about you." It's an abrupt change in topic but Ciara's murky green eyes have softened a little as she watches the tight expression on Zera's face. The glass of whiskey is pressed into his hand until Zera curls his fingers around the vessel.
* Lollita looked completely confused for a moment, her hands still grasping the edge of the table before her. "Are you okay?" She asked, shifting about so that she might sit upon her knees within her seat. This adjusted her height, allowing her a good couple of inches to her usually ridiculously short stature. She then folds her arms on the table before her, and leans forward in order to hold herself up on them. Her small nose scrunches up as she listens to him speak, her lack of knowledge in.…well, in anything, making it particularly hard for the woman to pinpoint the source of the mans actions. "Work out? " she asked, confusion still painted across her innocent features.
-Halekial- *She seems to have the habit of inducing blinking, Halekial meeting her in the domain of confusion. * "Ummm, I'm just fine." *He shakes his head, this contrary to what he appears to be saying. Nice way to farther confuse her, Halekial! Mm, but after he had answered, something else had popped into his head, and he was merely responding...outwardly, and to himself. But how she would know? As she readjusts herself in her seat, Halekial seems to slide down in his chair, his upper body disappearing somehow, the lower body slipping from its position of tightness in the chair to the slow drip of person to the flow, feet possibly hitting her chair. He's all of 6'2". That aside, he says.* "Yeah, work out. Ya know? Work your muscles," *Raising his arm and pumping it as if he were pumping a dumb-bell, curling his arm inward as if doing so, to illustrate the point.* "running, and lifting stones?" *She probably doesn't get it, but he tries to make her see. She seems...sheltered. Not acquainted with the land outside of whatever speck of a country, TOWN, rather, that she may be from. Yet, he finally realizes for the first time they have had a conversation about…nothing, really -- all small talk. GOD! There goes that blasphemous word again. Help him...He brings the matter up.* "Um...where exactly are you from, if you don't mind me asking? I don't I've ever seen you around before, and you have a peculiar accent."
* Lollita watches him slide down in his chair, laughing once again, that loud and clear sound of perfect elation leaving her lips just as it had before. "I am from nowhere." Was her answer, as she tried to enunciate her words a bit more carefully, thinking perhaps he was having trouble with the way they rolled from tongue. She could feel her foot acting up again, and after a moment she reached out both of her hands for him. Pulling herself fully over the table, she planted her gloved palms on either side of his face, giving a gentle pull as she leans all the more closer. Then, abruptly, a noisy and big kiss is placed square on the right cheek of the man, before she releases him and moves to slide free of her chair. "I am tired, and must sleep." She said, wincing softly as she places weight upon her foot, though shifts it away soon enough as she slips from her chair fully still grinning.
* Wind-Racer tilts his neck from left to right, until an audible pop of air is heard. He takes the offered cup offering a nod in gratitude. Her question catches him off, guard and the elf wasn't quite sure how to respond. There were plenty of things she didn't know about him, where to start? There’s a puzzled look upon handsome facial features for a moment, but it is washed away soon after he downs three quarters of a glass. When the drink is set back down, an elbow is propped on the bar, and he rests his cheek into a light fist peering over to her. "All right…for 80 some odd years I was an assassin…I was full of hate when I first reached Auvrynon, a certain guild-master capitalized on this rage and recruited me." His eyes didn't stay upon hers for the whole time he had spoken; they would drop quite a bit, as if he were ashamed to share this with her. "I'm working to make amends with the Goddess, it was a terrible decision to join such a ruthless faction."
-Halekial- *He had forced his body back to an upright position, pulling up with great effort. In that small time frame, he had grown comfortable in that near-supine position. And then comes the 1st wave of surprise.* "Uh. Nowhere." *He characteristically tries to outwit her, going.* "And I am from Everywhere." *Grinning.* "You know what they say about opposites? " *A break, as if to let her answer, yet he gives her not enough time to fully do so, it being more a rhetorical question than anything. But how could it be rhetorical, if she never heard the saying. Be that as it may, he goes.* "...opposites attract!" *The small smile that was blooming in the field of his face truly opens up its rosebud center, stretching its facial petals, allowing for her sunlight to pour in. Face held in affection, cheeks puffed, it is met with a kiss, as if set up for that very thing. * *Here comes the 2nd wave of surprise.* *Then, he rises, breaking through the "wave-age". * "Um, good night, Lollita. Ms Flower slash Healing Ointment." *He winks and rises to his feet as well. * "I know you'd object to me walking you home, but can I at least walk you to the end of whatever path we will diverge from?”and such, but I AM wrapping it up. So you know
* Lollita shifts a bit, breifly placing her weight upon her injured foot, before taking it off of it yet again. Her palms run up and down the ribbon that is wrapped about her hips as he continues to speak, her mind wandering to the small cabin she had been staying in when back in the Weald. Unfortunately she had nothing like that here, and was simply going to wander up to the room a kind soul had been thoughtful enough to purchase her earlier that day. "You could, though I will walk not far." She said, nodding her head towards the stairs that would lead to the rooms where her own laid, her grin broadening even more as she looked upwards at him, hands clasping together before her.
* Ciara doesn't bat an eyelash at the confession, leaving one with the impression that she's either one of the coolest customers in the mountains or that Ciara has no room to cast stones at a murderer. "I'm told that absolution has to come from within before it can come from others... but I don't know if I set much store in that theory." Another tilt of her head and Ciara drains her drink. The fire in the hearth has become little more than glowing hot embers and the flickering red light catches on Ciara's hair and in her eyes. "I like to think that we're judged on the sum of our lives and not just the high or lowlights. We all make mistakes, Zera." One corner of her mouth turns up with a small but reassuring smile and Ciara takes the bottle again to pour herself yet another drink. "Are you going to make me take a turn in this or will you tell me something else I don't know?"
*And so he lets her lead the way, Halekial stopping just short of following her upstairs as he waits at the bottom, giving her a kiss on her left cheek to balance what she did out, before she went upstairs…because, balance is everything. He stands there, looking up, waving till the last moment until she disappears into the room. After he comes through out of that cloud of euphoric affection for someone he genuinely feels a connection with after a first impression, he berates himself, silently: What am I doing?! She's going to get so attached to me. Consider me the first person she sees, and her the duck that newly-hatches from the egg. I need to slow down. Before we're married...tomorrow.' He wipes sweat that's not there, from his forehead, such a mental prospect weighing heavily upon him, working him well. He shakes his head and walks out the door. And into the night.*