Open A Drunken Touch!

[Lindel Ward]

While Lindel felt good about having offered the drinks, he didn't realize until after what situation he had put himself in. Did he come across as a player, paying for women in another way? And then what if they were to reciprocate the offer, but all three of them conflicted. Lindel was too goofed up to really think straight, and he came much like a dog to Leda's wave of hand. He got his drink and began to walk over. He was far from a buzz, but he felt a lightheaded-ness about him, so he approached with caution, thinking of what he might say before hand. From the hello to how do you do, he thought what must have been a thousand ideas to him before he got there, and not one could catch him from his own, well... He walked up, finally, with a drunken grin, teeth and all, giving them a sloppy wave of his free hand and glances all around. "Hi, I'm Lindel, Lindel Ward. You're very pretty," he said what must have been directly to Leda, though the diversion of his eyes could suggest Sigrun too. "I mean, I didn't come over here because you're pretty, but you are pretty. I - uh, hmm..." He stopped himself and smiled as casually as possible, lifting his drink in cheers and took a gulp. The little dribble on his lip was wiped away and he went in to lean on the counter, underestimating the distance an inch or so, and had a bit louder of a drop than he anticipated, his elbow slamming into the wood. He glanced it off the best he could, his face probably having shot a grimace to anyone in front, but held himself together saying, "I'm fine," before taking another drink in his anxious state.

[Leda]

Like a puppy, the man stumbled over at the wave of her hand, something she noticed with a pleased amusement, crossing the room with a rather abashed air. Up close, he was good-looking but younger and apparently slightly more drunk than he had appeared when across the room. It caused her a little disappointment, but she smiled then smiled a bit more with a light flush that could not be seen in the lighting of the Arms, when he said she, and probably Sigrun too, were pretty. If a compliment from someone who had drunk too much wasn't quite the same since alcohol did have a tendency of making everyone more attractive, the candidness was always welcome. Leda was definitely much too prideful to reject any form of flattery or Laudation. "Thank you, and thank you for the drinks," she prodded hers gently with the tip of her finger in order to illustrate the point, "It's nice of you." She watched, with a mixture of irrepressible amusement, sympathy and compassion as his elbow went down hard on the counter. Though it looked painful and she hoped he was alright, the way he shook it off and took another sip of the drink was subtly comical. "How many have you had?" She indicated his drink with a small smile. Of course, it wasn't her place to say anything and she wouldn't... at least not unless it got worse. Gods knew she had been in a worse state than that in the past, but she felt it a good idea to warn against his getting yet another drink, if he felt so compelled to. "So, do you come here often?" she asked, with a smile of beguilement and a raised eyebrow, avoiding raucous mirth and trying to sound a little more serious than she felt.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"How many have you had?" SIgrun glanced at Leda and Adsila before turning to Lindel and smirking mischievously. She downed what little was left in her mug and then took the other one that Lindel had purchased. "A little more than enough, I wager?" she raised an eyebrow at him, her curled lips ghosting over the top of the ceramic mug. She eyed him with interest, wondering to herself what his intentions might've been when he'd bought them drinks; he didn't seem to be anything else but friendly. Her lip twitched when she realized the tipsy state that Lindel was in, knowing that she had once had a phase where all she would have was alcohol, for so many days that she couldn't recall a moment in between where she was sober or attempting to nurse her hangovers, at least until she was fortunate enough to meet someone who talked some sense into her. Sigrun shook the dark thoughts out of her head, telling herself that Lindel was obviously not drinking out of depression or anxiety, like she had. He probably just had a low tolerance, but he certainly wasn't problematic. "Watch yourself, though," she warned, lifting her mug slightly, "you don't want to become dependent on these things." "Or worse, taken control over, by these things," she smiled, seemingly implying that a similar thing had happened to her in the past, and it in fact did. She couldn't help but advice him a little, warn him, as she herself found it hard to listen to herself when no one else was around to affirm her notions of right and wrong. "So, do you come here often?" Sigrun chuckled mid sip of her ale, her hand immediately shielding the small sputters of ale that managed to escape her mouth. She grinned at Leda and then looked over at Lindel expectantly. She quite frequented the Herald's Arms, but never recalled seeing him around. Although, he was quite discreet in his movements, as the young blonde never would've noticed him without Leda.

[Caesarion]

He couldn't help but find his surroundings to be a little funny. Obviously, this was a bar. Duh. That was his precise reason for coming here, actually; everyone was too drunk and too carefree to bother with him. He liked the feeling of being surrounded by people. Lost in the crowd. Even if they were a bunch of beggars and fools. Actually, that was probably the precise reason. Who wanted to sit in the middle of a beauty pageant, watching ladies chime in wearing their attitude across their skin, and the men pretending they want something other than a night under someone elses sheet's. At least here, everyone was more upfront about their motives. Well, not everyone. He was pretty sure he had scouted a group of three that may as be alien invaders. The girls were all glamored up and ready to play pretend with the boy, who honestly deserved it. He'd learn eventually, right? Everyone did. Caesarion fell back into his chair, and smiled at basically nothing. The air may have been reminiscent of piss and alcohol, but the feeling coming from it soothed his senses. All of the yelling and the pure bliss around him -- it was great. If he wasn't so fucking paranoid, maybe. Too bad that wasn't the case! "Hey," he finally spoke up. It wasn't exactly a long-awaited moment, just one of his whims. Whenever he spoke, disgust seemed to follow. Arguments. Disdain. He was kind of a douchebag. Just... he just wasn't used to the common life. "You should let a man drink all he likes. It's the best way to protect your chastity, I'm afraid." A drunk was never much of a threat. Especially not this one. He could already tell he had the soul of a yelping unicorn. Caesarion was interested in these three in particular, if it wasn't obvious already. The way they carried themselves was different than... everyone. He knew that they were either more capable than the others, or they were stupid and unprepared. Fun times, either way. The brown haired slaver leaned back into his seat, but quickly stood up to join them. They didn't really have a choice but to let him join them. Or harass them. Whichever they took it as. "I'm bored of these people. You three seem to have more spunk. Tell me, what are three well-reputed citizens doing in such a terrible, terrible place? You trying whoring? I hear it's quite profitable." That could apply to anyone, really. Ha, if Caesar wasn't totally shit broke himself, then maybe... ew, never mind that. He was a slaver. He preferred to buy, not rent. Actually, he couldn't help but find it funny that it was the second time that they were assumed to be prostitutes. Really, the presumptuousness. Didn't make it any less hilarious to his under-developed zero-moral sense of humor. He discarded the thought, and turned to Lindel. He thought he was just the funniest. Drunken little saint in a den of wolves. "You should lighten up, lad. This is a place where you're free to be yourself. Being all awkwardly nervous isn't going to do anything for you." That was hypocrisy right there, since Caesarion usually crumbled under the weight of intelligent conversation.

[Adsila]

((Sorry guys that I haven't posted yet! There was a RL emergency, Grandma's death and I had no internet and was a last minute decision and had no way to tell you guys... I really am sorry oh and Lindel I post before you not after you I will post as soon as I get home and I will edit this post, which should be in about an hour, I am just letting you all know that I haven't left this thread. Once again I am truly sorry))

[Lindel Ward]

He smiled to hear Leda's voice, though the the buzzing in his ears made it seem all the more angelic and distant. She had been entertained, at the least, which was a good sign. After all, her invitation was something worth acknowledgement, even closer now - closer still the fire was burning in her eyes and the others. The blonde seemed much more tame up close, younger than he thought - why did they always look younger - and... "You're very welcome, ladies. And this is only my second, of course," tankard in hand swinging, the foam ready to spill over as if rocks by the sea, though rough knuckles, "and I don't think I'll be having much more." He was all smiles, drunken or not. "I'm afraid I'm relatively new to the scene, I'm afraid," he was repeating himself, his eyes getting caught between Leda's deep eyes or the brightness of Sigrun's. He lingered on the thought, and Sigrun's eyes, almost haphazardly in pause. "I'm sort of - " The poetry stopped in his head, the other young man drawing near quicker than his intoxicated wit could gather. The energy of his words overpowered the unsuspecting Lindel's with ease, and he heard him. He spoke foolishly, maybe, for their honor, "That's no way to speak to ladies." Even for his misplaced mind he was fairly comprehensible, and had caught up at least. "And I am freed up enough. Besides, I'm drunkenly nervous, not awkwardly so. Maybe it's your company that's unwelcomed, over the helpless drunks who dwell here." Did he just insult the company of the Herald's Arm? Yes, but in good defense of its people, and the castle. They quite liked the way they lived. Ever observant, Lindel lead in and posed the question, "You sound odd. Where are you from?" His eyes settled on the new man, his attention in questioning being unquestionable itself. Still he had yet to ask the ladies their names, if it were polite.

[Adsila]

((sorry guys for missing my post but I will post now if it is possible, if not I can delete my post and wait again until it is my turn ... I am horribly sorry... just have been busy that is all))

Adsila looked around and seen a new person that had came over to talk the group of people that she was with.

Adsila discarded what the new man was saying, she sighed and looked back at Lindel. He seemed much more pleasing to listen to then this other man that was there.

"Only your second drink? I think there might be some bit of a lie in that sentence."
Adsila said to Lindel with a smirky smile.
Adsila then looked back at the other man that was there and sighed again.

"Serioulsy, I think that our new friend here surely has had enough to drink, but he will know his limits, and I don't think that you are talking very politely to us girls. What do you assume that we are?"
Adsila asked the new man.

Then she looked back at Lindel.
"I think that you have had enough for sure, I am just surprised that you really have only had 2 drinks, which I still do not believe, but if you say it is so, then I will believe it to be true."
Adsila said to the man, but still overly doubting him in her mind.

Adsila hoped that this new guy wasn't going to start any trouble, she wanted to come here just for once and not have to deal with stupid drunks, but then again, who else would be at a bar? There are always some that are stupid when they drank.
I guess we will see how this plays out.
Adsila thought to herself.

[Leda]

Leda smiled in response to Lindel and Dominic's smiles. So many people preoccupied themselves with being the perfect pose of tragic melancholy and self-pity - it was good to see people unabashedly smiling, even if one of those people was a little drunk. "Oh. Well, you must have had those two quite quickly." It was then that another man sauntered over, rather intrusively, not that that was something that Leda usually minded - otherwise, the introduction process could be so long and laborious. She didn't say anything at first upon the arrival of the new man. She watched him, trying to hide her distrust - something verging between cynicism and wariness - with raised eyebrows and a light smile. She replied to his first statement calmly, but her eyes glinted slightly, as they did when she was sure that the ensuing conversation might not be all fun and games. "Perhaps... though in my personal experience, men understand boundaries less when they have a couple of drinks down them. Even consequences of actions are less impressed upon them, and maybe that is the worse. When sober, they tend to understand that you cannot just lunge lewdly at the object of your desires, no matter how much you might disrespect them. When drunk, they do not care. Of course, I generalise and it is simply in my personal experience. You might have found differently." Leda turned around and started running her finger along the brim of her glass, with an inaudible sigh. She looked up in time to hear the stranger's next question, one which she acknowledged by turning back to her drink with a small smile and looking down, letting a curtain of dark hair fall in front of her face, hiding the mild expression of shock at such a question. Not that she should have been... after all, it was far from being the first time a man had made a comment of that nature and she had been asked many things a great deal more personal and more lascivious. It was as if he was trying to be witty, but instead came out with something crude and tasteless. Finally, she replied, but she kept her eyes on the rim of her glass, still tracing it with her finger. "No. I have not tried whoring, but when I first arrived in Syliras, virtually penniless, I considered it. Selling yourself, your body, for food and shelter may not be ideal, but I would not turn up my nose at it - most people do not do it because they wish to." She paused and licked her lips, almost nervously, "Thankfully, I never had to." Leda smiled at Adsila's comment - What do you assume that we are? - Well, thought Leda, he thinks we're trash. Obviously.

[Sigrun Dominic]

Sigrun sat silently, her eyes flickering with increasing amusement and playfulness as she observed the exchange between her three companions and the newcomer, who had at first looked quite attractive until he'd first spoken. The young blonde's lips curled up into a smile as wave upon wave of rather clever responses were uttered by Leda, Adsila, and Lindel. She absorbed every sentence in time with every sip of her ale, and by the time Leda was speaking, she was grinning from ear to ear and tapping the countertop for the bartender to bring her another mug of the fruity beer. By the time her fellow Svefran had finished speaking, she was already hiding half her face behind her re-filled mug. After a hearty gulp, she burst out in a chuckle, raising an eyebrow at the newcomer. "Drinking?" she mused, "the best way to protect your chastity?" She took another sip of her ale and shook her head, "young man, have you ever seen what alcohol does to a person's..." "Urges?" she mused, grinning mischievously, the alcohol already bringing out the outspokenness in her. She downed her mug of ale, and tapped the bottom of the mug on the countertop. The bartender quickly sauntered over and refilled it, smirking at the young blonde for a moment before walking away. Sigrun happily enjoyed her fourth mug, slowly this time, her eyes meeting with Lindel's in a challenging manner, as if she was urging him to match her number of drinks. She then shifted her gaze over to the newcomer, sizing him up as she examined his features and his stance. He was a confident one, attractive and fit, but was rather tactless. She liked him, and at the same time, she didn't. "And frankly," she raised her eyebrows with a smirk, taking a second sip of her ale, "I believe I'm far too expensive to be a whore."

[Caesarion]

ooc(OMGOMGOMG. I didn't know you guys were waiting for twelve days... I... Sorry, I'll respond every other day at the bare minimum from now on. D;)

Upon the rebuttal from... multiple sources, the Ravokii resorted to an awkward smile and a brazen stare. Each and every one of them seemed so... typical. They were Sylirans, through-and-through. "Sorry. I'm not used to the company of respectable women such as yourselves," which led to elaboration on the company he was used to, "I'm a bit more accustomed to slaves." Here, in his... native environment, the man found taboo like that to be almost acceptable. People either cared drunkenly or didn't care soberly, about his desire to broadcast his slaver's past. He was still new to this place, so... he had a lot to learn. Especially about the women. Men were easier to understand.

In Ravok, women were easy to understand, too. They would've taken such a comment, and supplied him either the most angry or the most seductive response they could divine. These girls... well, they were moral. He could see it. That was a twist. "In my experience, it doesn't matter what boundaries they have or don't have when drunk, because they're too blown over to force their will onto you. This is an example given by a master of drunken perversion." Well, that was a bluff. He didn't exactly have a history with something like that... mostly because he didn't ever get drunk, but... from what he saw, drunken men were just too weak and too stupid to get what they wanted.

Obviously, he was trying to act like he had far more 'game' than he did. Was he really as impressive as he wanted to be? No. But hey, at least it made him more interesting! Er... at least to himself. Anyway, the more he spaced out, the more the slew of questions and answers was going to pile up. He tossed away his awkward smile, and simply tried to address all of the people around him. "I'm from Ravok." It was a simple question. The answer was a little difficult, really, because he knew how the people here hated Ravokii. That was totally fine, though! Since he was here to swoon over people's attention, malice was still preferable to nothing. "Which means that, as a rule of thumb, I'm a terrible person. I should be burned at the stake as we speak." Not that it would do all that much to dissuade him.

He wasn't sure what to say to... this girl. He could actually relate to her, which prompted a temporary tone-down in his personality. "When I got here, I was also pretty broke. I don't have very many abilities that are... respected in Syliras, so I had to choose between shanking deer day-by-day or... well... I don't think I'd make much as a prostitute," he rolled his eyes, "so maybe something else fit for a degenerate." Of course, he chose to shank deer. The Ravokii was far too fabulous to steal from people or deal toxins in a gutter somewhere.

He literally had nothing intelligible to say to the blonde girl in particular, other than, "That must be very nice for you." No one was expensive in reality. He had seen girls in the slave marts just as beautiful as her for a lot less than she would've thought.