Closed "Coaxing out the Dreamer"

[Sarel]

6th day of fall. It had been a though day for Sarel, his forge and been a bit overwhelmed by orders for tools and he had to work two bells extra to finish his job. Still he didn't mind to much, he loved standing behind the forge, to feel the hot glow of the fire on his skin, see the many colors of the red hot metal and hear the satisfying clang of metal when he forged a lump of iron into something that would be usefull for the city. But mind it or not, it still was the reason why he was making his way towards the inclement weather to blow of some steam. Because enjoying it or not, working especially when having such a big order with a close deadline was exhausting. So that was why Sarel was making his way towards the inclement weather, not minding the heavy smell of the forge that still clung to him, it wasn't as if the general smell of sweat and alcohol wouldn't cover it up in there anyways. He walked inside of the club, not giving a glance at the puking woman being consoled by one of her friends a few meters away from the door, he doubted she really wanted to have attention on her in that state anyway. As he entered the club the loud drums of the music and the combined bodyheat of an entire group of young people hit him at once,luckely the heat wasn't much of a problem he had worse at the forge every single day. As he walked towards the bar he suddenly felt very very old, he was somebody who was twenty seven and the majority of the people in here barely made the twenty mark.

[Chemar Tisserand]

The steady beat of the music, paired with the constant banter of gathering friends had almost succeeded in drowning out the days dreams from Chemar's recollection. It didn't hurt that she'd downed several drinks that had been left up to Tom's discretion, adding a layer of haze to her usually clear perspective. The days walking at the Dreaming Lady had taken it's toll on Chemar, driving her to try and scrub her mind clean in the only place that seemed loud enough and distracting enough to do so. She rarely ventured to the Inclement Weather but it was in this moment, perfect. She sat within the safety of a small alcove, free from any casual interaction so as to let the atmosphere bombard her. The drink and the residual effects of her mountain added a comedic twist to the patrons she watched, making the sea of red headed Inartans vying for each others attentions beyond compelling to her. She sat with her chin resting in her hands, watching a tall, leggy woman drape herself over an oddly academic looking fellow, the sheer look of discomfort on his face was enough to hold her attention from all else. The 'poor' man squirmed as his admirer dragged a fingernail along his chest, whispering who knows what in his ear. Her curiosity had her wondering what those painted lips had said, what would make the man flush with a red so bright that it nearly eclipsed the red of his hair. The woman's hand disappeared beneath the fabric of his bryda and the gentleman's eyes went wide. A bright smile curled Chemar's lips and she tore her attention away from them as it now seemed more like voyeurism than entertainment.

She leaned back, taking a long draw of her drink and lazily ran her fingertips across her mouth, once again scanning the room for some new distraction. A man came in who looked almost as out of place as she and she watched him for a few moments, snaking his way through the undulating crowd. He had never been to her shop, she'd made a practice of trying to see how many people she'd walked with and his was an unfamiliar face. Perhaps one day. A wave of the drink clouded her vision for a moment, and she closed her eyes, returned her chin to it's resting place on the heel of her hand.

[Sarel]

Sarel, ignored the writing masses on the dance floor and some people hanging around the entrance who where surely about to join the puking girl outside of the club and went straight towards the bar to get a drink, He always danced a lot better after he had some alcohol in him. Not to mention it helped with ignoring the smell of the rather sizable amount of sweating bodies crammed in a rather small and hot space. Sarel gave the bar a loud tap to draw the attention of one of the bartenders. “Give me a Ivak's fire Tom.” Sarel said in a jovial tone. A big wide smile on his face as he ordered his favorite drink. Much was his joy a few years ago when he first discovered a drink that was lit on fire before it was drunk, how much better could a drink get? “Just give it some extra fire.” Tom just stared at his rather strange request before just shrugging and getting to work with the bottles, layering the alcohol in both the shot glass and the large glass. “here you go, Sir. Enjoy.” Tom said with a smile before lighting the shot glass on fire and dropping it into the beer glass. “Thanks.” Sarel responded with a smile before draining his drink in a single gulp. “Something else sir?” Sarel shook his head and walked away from the bar and was about to jump into the dancing crowd and dance as if he had gotten a seizure when he spotted an inartan woman sitting to the side of all the dancing. Now that wouldn't do would it, the club was for dancing, not for sitting around and watching others dance. He changed his course and walked up to the woman sitting all alone to the side. “Not really in a dancing mood?” He said in a joval tone with a wide smile on his sooth covered face.

[Chemar Tisserand]

She heard a voice, and opened one eye. The man standing before her was the same she'd watched from across the room, the same that had seemed somewhat out of place. He smelled of fire and metal. Just being close to him threw her senses to a workshop, and she could imagine him shaping near molten metal into any number of creations. She breathed in a long draw of the smell, enjoying the earthy quality of the mixture. As she focused on the small details of the man, she had all but missed his question. The drink, combined with the fumes of her mountain had begun to best her in the game of endurance but she shrugged it off an concentrated...Dance...Had he asked her to dance?

"Dancing? No.. I do not dance." She had to focus through the growing haze of her drink. He remained as he had been, standing near her table. Her drink had infused a devilish streak into her personality, or perhaps it had just magnified what was already there, but either way, she saw this fellow as a source of company, and entertainment. "But I will make a deal with you. She flashed a sultry grin at the stranger. "Have a seat...and I will choose a partner for you." She slid to the side of the alcove and patted the seat next to her. "If I cannot find you someone to dance with, that you find suitable...then...I will be your partner." A long sip of her drink sent another wave of intoxication through her and she held out her hand to shake on the deal if he would agree.

"I'm Chemar. And you love, who are you?" She cocked her head to the side, taking a moment to look at the man from head to toe. Her gaze paused on the multitude of scars that marred his arms, burn scars...she was right, blacksmith.

A fleeting thought flashed in her head, she enjoyed the look of a man with scars, it was a nice contrast to her own pale, unmarred skin. Chemar. She quickly shook her head, as though the movement would dislodge the arrant thought, there were reasons she did not drink. She returned her attention to the stranger, still awaiting his introduction.