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Post by Sinfael Vanmoriel on Mar 24, 2008 1:23:08 GMT -5
Sinfael's eyes watching the Sib's apparition as it screeches and careens away, and in response, she murmurs softly. "And no Sib, I haven't..."
The milk curds in her drink had begun to clump along the tall sides of her mug, so she began stirring it with a long spoon from the counter. Dreaming Glory puree swirled about the middle of the milk, sucked in by centripetal forces of the current.
But the excitement in her mug and the excitement to do with Sib made her recent duties seem relatively placid. What did she expect? Paperwork was almost never a precursor to thrill unless it involved a warrant or bounty.
A young woman from the far side of the inn stood up, politely brushing the folds from her robe and preparing to leave. As the legs of her humbly carved chair scraped along the floor, Sinfael's ears gave a twitch. Instinctively, Sin glanced over her shoulder to look, but the woman was already out of the door.
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Post by Erelle Netherbright on Mar 25, 2008 8:44:57 GMT -5
Erelle rubbed her eyes tiredly and shook her head, the banshee's wail still ringing loudly in her ears. She smiles sympathetically at Takaii, though the expression just makes her look even more exhausted.
"Its not you, Takaii, you didn't do anything. Sib has lost it. At this point I doubt we're ever going to get our old Sib back."
She leaned against the counter, idly brushing away bits of glass from in front of her. She hissed and inhaled sharply as she nicked her finger on a particularly sharp fragment. Frowning, she watched the blood pool up under the nick and begin to drip on the counter.
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Post by Onika Netherbright on Mar 25, 2008 14:25:24 GMT -5
Onika walks into the room, her eyes scanning the crowd, looking for familiar faces. She smiles when she sees other members of the Regiment, but stands back for a moment, straining to hear the conversation. She hates walking in and not knowing what is going on, it makes her feel like an unwelcome guest. While she listens, she looks around at the other individuals present. Nobody of any consequence, so she turns her full attention back to the group. After waiting long enough to have a fairly decent grasp on the conversation, she begins to approach them. Her hands are shaking and her head begins to swim. She slows only long enough to pull her flask from her boot and take a long drink. She quickly begins to feel better, and she puts on her smile and greets everyone, ready to blend in and be like everyone else for a while.
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Post by Aeiara Traselghan on Mar 30, 2008 1:37:00 GMT -5
A tall half-elven lad strides into the pub, sitting down by the end of the bar in the seat that the other woman had just left. He puts his boot-clad feet up on the counter and snaps his fingers at the bartender to get his attention, multiple rings and earrings glinting in the dim light. His sky-blue eyes shine with mirth and the corner of his lips quirks upwards in a smirk - he seems to be in a fairly good mood.
"Oi, barkeep - bring me some'a ye best, aye? Reserve if'n ye've go' th' stuff."
He glances around, grinning at the other Netherbrights. "Why, 'allo lads an' lasses."
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Post by Onika Netherbright on Apr 4, 2008 3:04:09 GMT -5
Onika finishes off her drink, her hands shaking slightly as she stands up. She looks at those around her and hopes she can slip out unnoticed. She knows she has been drinking, and its late, too late to go where she is headed, but she can't stop herself. She tosses some gold to the bartender, grabs her things, and heads quickly to the door, glancing back to make sure nobody is paying too much attention to her. Once she is out the door she quickly jumps on her horse and, with a quick look over her shoulder, digs her heals into Maelstrom and heads off in the direction she knows she should not be going. Its been too long, and not long enough. She needs to watch, but only from a distance, and only while alone. Nobody can know.
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Post by Alannah Vrusades on Apr 21, 2008 11:27:48 GMT -5
True, there was a storm raging outside on the Nine Knuckles Pubhouse Bar. True, there was a war ravaging the lands, a war that did not look like it would be any time soon. True, Alannah Vrusades cared little for either of these facts.
The portal she had opened for herself closed just as she stepped out. The young woman, true to her remarkably feline attributes, scowled as she was met with the heavy downpour of rain. Her mood was already sour, and as the plump droplets pounded her pale skin it was evident that it was growing consistantly more foul.
Inhaling the air of Shattrath, the mana-infused oxygen spurring her addiction, the pupils of her emerald oculars contracted considerably. It was mere moments before they disappeared entirely and the glow overwhelmed her. The corners of her swollen lips twitched slightly as her well-manicured fingers reached out, wrapping about the handle to the pub.
Fighting the current of the wind she pulled back, struggling a moment with the weight. These damn storm doors, she thought for herself, clicking her tongue in contemplative anger.
She stepped through the threshold, the black cloth of her boots emitting no sound even as the water secreted from the material. Alannah was drenched, the moisture of her hair turning it to the lightest shade of black. Each tendril clung to the sides of her face, framing her youth in darkness. Her calculating gaze sifted through the scattered patrons as elven ears twitched, growing accustomed to the idle banter of patrons. She saw Erelle, saw a few others from the Regiment, and allowed a small smile to tug at her lips. Had she been in better spirits, it was possible she would have gone to speak with her new friends.
She was not, however, in the mood for conversation. Her eyes were raging, the storm outside not able to hold a flame to the torch of tyranny coursing through her veins.
Who does he think he is?
She spat on the worn floorboards, perhaps the most least lady-like action she'd performed in her life, lowering her head as she allowed her thoughts to wander back to Xannathel. Her throat constricted as she remembered the feeling of his hand, tightening, flexing his strength as he held her pinned to the wall.
Who the **** does he think he is?
Turning abruptly she stormed to a seat against the far wall, not wanting to be near the Netherbrights at this moment in time. Alannah was no fool. She knew how she acted when she was in a mood such as this. It was best to be by her own.
It's always better to be by yourself...
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Post by Erelle Netherbright on Apr 26, 2008 8:27:03 GMT -5
Erelle's ears perked up as she heard the large door creak and then swing open, with her training...she didn't miss much. She watched from the corner of her eye as Alannah stepped through the door, glowering almost violently.
With one last glance at her bleeding finger, she beckoned to the barkeep and waited patiently as he returned to her with two glasses, nearly over flowing. Erelle rose smoothly, and taking great caution not to spill the full glasses, she made her way slowly over to Alannah.
Sitting down across from her, she slid one glass across the table to her silently and took a long pull from her own glass, watching the other woman curiously.
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Post by Alannah Vrusades on Apr 26, 2008 18:18:00 GMT -5
She had been seated in silence for not even a minute when Erelle plopped down across from her. The glass before her held a glowing amber liquid. Slendor digits hesitantly rose from her lap and encircled the drink. Her nails tapped idly against the side as she lifted it to her lips, parting them, allowing a trickle of the warmth to flow down her throat.
Alannah lowered the glass and stared forward at the blond across from her. Her temper was subsided, though slowly, as the familiar sensation flooded her senses. A twitch to the corner of her lips, a sigh, and she spoke.
"Erelle," she muttered, her voice hushed, fatigued. "... How are you?"
Another drink.
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Post by Erelle Netherbright on Apr 26, 2008 19:09:44 GMT -5
Erelle leaned back in her chair, and let out a silent sigh of relief. She was still slightly worried about Alannah after what happened, but knew the woman to be strong enough to handle herself.
She swirled the liquid around in her glass for a moment, staring at it with a contemplating expression, as though it held the answer to some unknown question. Running one hand through her untamed blonde hair, she set her glass back down on the table, lining up the base of the glass perfectly with the watermark left on the table.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and closing her murky green eyes momentarily.
"I'll live, same ****, different day."
She pushed her bangs out of her face subconsiously and straightened her shoulders somewhat.
"He talk to you yet? How you holdin' up?"
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Post by Alannah Vrusades on Apr 29, 2008 12:50:58 GMT -5
"I'm holding," came Alannah's tired voice, a hand raised to push back the damp hair that was molded to her cheek. Content that she no longer looked like a Yeti, the young woman allowed a small smile to traipse over her lips. "Holding on to what, that I'm not sure."
Her shoulders lifted momentarily in a slight shrug, feigning nonchalance. The glow of her eyes sifted through Erelle's slightly disheveled appearance. Clearly something was bothering the Hunter, but Alannah knew better than to question someone when they were in a mood.
Lips pursed, she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. "He spoke to me, yes. Or should I say, I spoke to him."
A sigh.
"It's hopeless, though... I don't think he'll ever understand where it is that I'm coming from. What I need."
A chuckle beneath her breath. So typical of men, she thought to herself.
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Post by Erelle Netherbright on Apr 29, 2008 12:58:21 GMT -5
The sturdy wooden chair squeaked quietly as Erelle shifted her weight, lifting one arm from the table to down the rest of her glass in one big gulp. Slamming it down somewhat on the table, she rolled her eyes and gathered her long, untamed blonde hair with one hand, pulling it back into a messy ponytail to keep it from her face.
"He doesn't seem to think he did anything wrong."
The petite blonde woman scowled, her expression matching that of the brunette when she first entered the bar.
"He's an idiot."
Her chair creaked again as she she leaned back against the chair. A breeze slipped through one of the open windows and brushed against her now bare neck, like chilly fingers slipping across her skin. She shivered and shook her head, her hair falling loose from the ponytail and tumbling down her back, stopping just short of her hips.
"So anyway, besides Captain Xannafail, anything going on? What did you two talk about?"
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Post by Alannah Vrusades on Apr 29, 2008 13:03:55 GMT -5
Another shrug. A small twitch of her lips. Her gaze wandered freely, unable to remain on any given spot for too long a period of time.
"About us. Him and I. What he did. Why he did it. He didn't have any answers. Just excuses."
Her aggrivation was mounting again, the flames returning to the depths of her eyes. "You know how it is. Men trying to dodge the proverbial bullet, too afraid to own up to what they did."
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Post by Erelle Netherbright on Apr 29, 2008 13:08:11 GMT -5
A mirthless laugh escaped Erelle's lip as she shook her head.
"Always too afraid that by admitting what they've done they'll make themselves look stupid. Well they already do, the lot of them."
She pulled off her gloves and examined the series of small scars the criss crossed her hands and arms like an intricate road map. Scarred and rough, her hands were calloused, those of a fighter.
"Tired of them trying to make me into, a lady, into a wife."
Another laugh completely devoid of enjoyment and she clenched her hands into a fist. She tilted her head and looked up at Alannah, her hair falling in front of her face slightly, a fire sparking up in the smirk that slid across her face, her eyes alight with determination.
"Good thing we're stronger than them. That's why we're in charge, and they're the ones taking orders."
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Post by Alannah Vrusades on Apr 29, 2008 13:15:27 GMT -5
The heated gaze dropped to Erelle's hands as her gloves were removed. A frown creased Alannah's lips as she noticed the scars that adorned her skin, reminders of the fights she'd face in the past. The lump that had been rising, thick and heavy, in her throat was swallowed as her eyes dropped still further to her own impeccably cared for hands. Flawless, they were the exact opposite of the rudimentary appearance of Erelle's own.
If she only knew, thought Alannah, sighing as her hands balled into fists beneath the table. But Erelle would never know. No one would.
"Stronger," she sounded, nodding her head. "Yes, stronger. Superior, too."
Alannah lifted her glass and poured a pit back into Erelle's, then held her own up for a toast.
"To the dogs, and the women who control them." She winked.
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Post by Erelle Netherbright on Apr 29, 2008 13:20:45 GMT -5
Erelle's smirk widened and she raised her glass to Alannah.
"To the men who think they can keep -us- in line."
She downed the glass and set it on the table, she followed Alannah's gaze down to her hands and she shrugged, used to the attention.
"To be honest, I don't know why they chase me around, I'd much rather punch something in the face, or stick my sword in its back, than romance someone. Maybe they're looking for someone to boss them around. Ha. To hell with that."
She cracked her neck and inhaled deeply, straightening her back, an audible noise resounding as the vertebrae in her back popped.
"So, any plans for tonight, or are we just gonna sit here and drink, because frankly, I'm good for either."
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