[Drunken Fish] Behind Bars (Fallon)

Not everyone who walks into a bar is after a drink.

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

Moderator: Regime

[Drunken Fish] Behind Bars (Fallon)

Postby Glen Fiddich on January 31st, 2015, 6:36 pm

Image
Glen shrugged off the Red Wolf's talk about expectations without the slightest hesitation. "The most dangerous woman I know is barely taller than my chest, and yet she can drop a man several times her size like a bag of mouldy spuds, with little more than a single touch." Glen left out the part where he knew the reality of that statement by painful first-hand experience; and the part where little more translated to a mark of Krysus and a swift sharp kick to an unsuspecting gentleman coin purse; but it had been a valuable - if excruciatingly painful - lesson about Saidra, and about the world in general. "Doesn't have to look dangerous to be dangerous, in my experience."

Glen listened intently as Fallon made her case, explaining herself and yet somehow not at the same time, wetting Glen's appetite for violence and reeling him in while at the same time not actually giving anything away that could come back to harm her or the Scars if Glen somehow slipped the line and swum away. He might have been in awe of her prowess if he weren't so busy being utterly seduced by it. The prospect of smashing anything over anyone's head turned his expression into a broad grin.

The mention of slavers gave him pause though. It was one of the many aspects of the world that was undeniably bad and wrong, and yet somehow acceptable at the same time. Violence and killing were supposed to be wrong, and yet everyone accepted that it was going to happen, and that sometimes it even needed to happen. Drinking. Smoking. Drugs. Whores. Infidelity. Lies. Deceit. Theft. Vandalism. All bad, all wrong, all things that many people - Glen included - not only did, or tolerated, but often without even so much as a whiff of judgement. There wasn't a part of him that didn't think that slavery was wrong, and yet he also understood the why of it, the need of it. If slaves and criminals didn't work the mines, didn't work the fields, didn't swab the decks or pull the oars, the world would grind to a halt. Undesirable people doing the undesirable tasks was the lubricant that allowed society to keep moving. Even the Drunken Fish had it's own indentured workforce, and while Glen made a point of not treating them like lesser people, he wasn't about to slice their bonds and release them back into the wild either. To do so in Sunberth was practically a death sentence; perhaps literally so, as the winter grew worse.

But then, Glen supposed, this was a coin with two sides. It was the difference between hunters and butchers; between fishermen and chefs; between a woodsman and a carpenter. No amount of kindness, generosity, or fair treatment from a slave owner could compensate for the kind of brutality that persisted in the actions of slavers: the people who tore victims from their lives, herded them like livestock, traded them off to each other like pieces of meat. Buying a horse from the market and treating it as a beloved pet instead of a mistreated workhorse was a rescue of a sort; but it didn't purify the brutality of the way they were stolen from the wild.

"I'm sure I can muster a little righteous violence for men of that ilk," he enthused, raising his own glass as well in a salute. "My axe hand it yours if you need it -" His tone twisted, an equal mix of good humour and respect. "- my lady."
Image

.
Common | Fratava | Nari
User avatar
Glen Fiddich
Let me axe you a question...
 
Posts: 66
Words: 50009
Joined roleplay: October 2nd, 2014, 9:03 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human, Svefra
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook

[Drunken Fish] Behind Bars (Fallon)

Postby Fallon on February 2nd, 2015, 4:09 pm

Image
"Pretty roses do generally have thorns. Beautiful flowers have their poisons," she took a sip, "But, I am not here to waggle sticks on which or what person is or is not more dangerous. There is a dangerous person in everyone's life, but the most dangerous you will find is the one who's cards are neatly hidden from plain sight." Lowering the glass she cocked only an eyebrow at him, "The unknown."

Still, he seemed to be thinking on the most part - almost as if deciding upon an answer. She did not rush him, there was no need to. If she wanted them to join she could persuade them if need be, but to truly join one needed to understand the situation and accept it for what it was. Only gentle nudging would lead him ever closer to her desires she realised after a while, but it had to be willing - forcing the hand would only cause friction. So, patience would be her virtue in this scenario. The winds gave a shift, the sails of consideration filled before inevitably guiding him into her way of thinking.

Her lips gave a curl, seeing the cogs go round in his mind to the aspect of violence at least - she was not sure if it was also for the want of justice, but time would quickly reveal that one. Another sip of drink, the answer ringing true within her ears and causing the flash of consideration to flare up once more. He had accepted, and that was all that mattered at present - character judging could come later, and the grooming of the ego into something more manageable would be the next step. But that would begin in good time.

"Oh, I will always need axe hands to hack away at some rotten wood," she exhaled, feeling the throb of tiredness and alcohol seep its way in truer now, blanketing the senses and leaving her stomach feeling knotted - much, "Such is no good to build or use once it has lost its strength. Only good for burning I find. We will no doubt get in contact with you should you appear before men of that ilk - if you can find them that is. I'll give you a nudge in the direction, they like to hover near the docks towards the south and past the river. That should give you a head start," She shrugged, draining the last of her glass and savouring the last drop. She had enough to drink for now, and she signified this by turning the glass upside down and placing it down upon the bar.

With an approving nod she swayed there for a moment, foot tapping out to obtain some balance, "Well then, unless you require anything else from me Stag," Fallon pressed herself up, slow and careful, joints clicking as she strengthened her stance to hold her there, "Well... I'll be off. I'll become a slurred, vomiting mess if I continue - and I'd rather not ruin your pretty bar." Giving a stupid grin she swayed, taking a step away and flicking her hand without thought, "So, see you around. I'm sure you could track me down if you need me."
Image
FALLON
Fallon | Coffee Codes | Skill Images

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
User avatar
Fallon
The Red Wolf
 
Posts: 2114
Words: 2252959
Joined roleplay: January 21st, 2013, 4:24 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 9
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Artist (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) Power Fork (1)
2013 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

[Drunken Fish] Behind Bars (Fallon)

Postby Glen Fiddich on February 4th, 2015, 12:37 am

Image
Rotten wood.

Glen liked that metaphor, and the visual it provided. It resonated strongly with a man of the sea like him - he understood the dangers that a rotten plank or rotten board could pose; knew how weak and useless they were; knew how important it was to hack out such things and replace them; knew the satisfying, soft crunch as you buried your axe into them. Unlike rotten wood though, these Daggerhands and Sun's Berth and all the other festering lowlifes bled and screamed and howled in pain. Satisfying wasn't the right word, he didn't enjoy the violence or inflicting suffering; it was more insidious than that, more about comfort and familiarity and need; more about feeling the absence of it, missing the sounds, and the feel, and the scent. You didn't have to like something or enjoy something in order to feel it's absence, and his bloodless axe was like a gaping hole.

He contemplated her nudge as she called it; wondered if it was a test perhaps, aiming him in a direction to find out what kind of weapon he was - a bow, swift, elegant, and precise; or a trebuchet, smashing it's way indiscriminately through everything in it's path? Glen liked to think of himself as a crossbow, and not only for sentimental reasons related to a close friend who used them; like a crossbow, Glen was little danger to you if you were far enough away, but get too close and the force of impact could be quite brutal. Still, aimed is what he'd been, and fire was what he'd do.

As the Red Wolf began to excuse herself, Glen offered a bow of his head in respect - or at least, that's what he assumed the gesture was supposed to mean; it was one of the many social graces Glen had observed from the Old Bear without entirely understanding the context; for all he knew he could have been challenging her to a duel, or propositioning her for something else entirely. Mid way a thought occurred to him though, and he gestured vaguely into the air before him.

"Hold that thought," he requested, abandoning the bar for just a moment, crossing to a cabinet beside the cooking fire and cauldron stand that nestled in the corner a few paces behind him. His attention landed on a scruffy-looking wicker basket, and Glen peeled back the threadbare cloth that covered it, rummaging through the contents. It was a simple fact of life that drunk people required sustenance - they needed food to help line their stomachs and let them drink longer, and to refill them after emptying the contents across whatever surface they happened to be close to at the time. The Fish had a few fires for cooking meats, a few stoves for boiling vegetables; but the bread came from a nearby bakery, a fairly generous low price providing the Fish with a basket of rolls each morning in exchange for certain services from certain ladies with certain talents and a certain lack of inhibitions. It was a dubious arrangement to be sure, but an effective one; and everyone involved seemed reasonably happy with things as they were, so it was best not to question.

Turning back towards the bar, and the Wolf, Glen gently tossed one of the crusty domes of bread in her direction, aiming to land on the bar even if her reflexes were too impaired to catch it. "I may be reckless," he quipped, "But even I'm not stupid to risk the Red Wolf ending up face-down in a gutter on her way home. Get that in you; between that and the cold air, you should sober up just fine."
Image

.
Common | Fratava | Nari
User avatar
Glen Fiddich
Let me axe you a question...
 
Posts: 66
Words: 50009
Joined roleplay: October 2nd, 2014, 9:03 am
Location: Sunberth
Race: Human, Svefra
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook

[Drunken Fish] Behind Bars (Fallon)

Postby Fallon on February 5th, 2015, 6:36 pm

Image
XX-Season-51X

Fallon gave only the smallest of pauses when the bar tender called back to her. Turning slightly on her heel she gave a glance back to him, the eyebrow raising as she considered what exactly it was he wanted. It did not look at first as if he was going to say anything when she first made her few uneasy steps away, silent as he was in his visage. But clearly there was something ticking behind those eyes, a thought or an association with something. He knew what she meant, and he would act upon it. Her lips gave only a curl, watching the gesture and following it as he moved.

It was a bit hard to follow him, the lines momentarily blurring together as she watched him flicker momentarily from her sight. She gave the careful steps back over to the bar, leaning slightly over to catch where he had gone to, her mind flickering the information somewhere in her sluggish skull. Get someone, get something? A trap, danger? Yes or no? There was a smallest turn of the head towards the door, that flicker of consideration. Could she run there? In this state and escape for the night into some gutter - no doubt her love would kill her for seemingly disappearing without a trace for the night. There was the smallest flinch as the roll struck the bar surface, her brow raising to it and her gaze darting between the two as she made her way over.

"Drink and dinner, a gentleman then," she gave a snort, gingerly taking it up and looking upon it, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I want a night out." Giving it a small raise, she broke a bit off, idle thanks as she turned away - she did not eat it just yet, eyes scrutinizing the inside for some tell tale sign of potential tampering - it could still be a trap - before deciding it was little more than just bread. Taking a step away, she gave a flick of the hand to him as she made her way once more to the exit, "Much thanks Stag, I'll be sure to put it to good use. And you... well, put what I gave you to use as well. Before it goes to waste."

The night greeted her, and the cold slapped against her. And whilst she gave a shudder against it, feet crunching, and mud turning, she felt the burn within grow. Tonight was a small success for her and the Scars.
Image
FALLON
Fallon | Coffee Codes | Skill Images

Fallon is a Master of Intimidation, "At this level, a Master intimidator often unconsciously intimidates their target unless the intimidator monitors their stance, tone, and actions to prevent this. Master intimidators will nearly always have a reputation that precedes them unless they have taken special care to prevent it."
User avatar
Fallon
The Red Wolf
 
Posts: 2114
Words: 2252959
Joined roleplay: January 21st, 2013, 4:24 pm
Location: Riverfall
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Scrapbook
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 9
Featured Contributor (1) Featured Thread (1)
Artist (1) Overlored (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1) Power Fork (1)
2013 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

[Drunken Fish] Behind Bars (Fallon)

Postby Matthew on March 15th, 2015, 12:30 am

Image

Fallon


Experience Points:

  • +1 Investigation
  • +2 Interrogation
  • +1 Leadership
  • +1 Persuasion
  • +3 Philosophy

Lores:

  • Glen: Retired Merc


Glen


Experience Points:

  • +4 Bartending
  • +2 Observation
  • +2 Organization
  • +2 Philosophy
  • +5 Socialization

Lores:

  • Bartending: Identifying Basic Drinks by Color and Hue
  • Bitzer: Leader of the Scars
  • Sunberth: The Scars Gang


Additional Notes :
Good thread. Fallon, your writing was as good as always. Glen, I haven't read your stuff until now and I really enjoyed it.

On a side note, I received permission from Monarch to go ahead and grade this. No worries there.


If you have any questions or concerns relevant to your grade, don't be afraid to send me a private message so that we can work it all out! Please remember to mark your Grading Request as Graded.

A shout-out to Ollic Rimesage, who was kind enough to make this template for me.
User avatar
Matthew
Malfunctioning
 
Posts: 1208
Words: 1100328
Joined roleplay: June 24th, 2013, 9:37 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Journal
Plotnotes
Medals: 6
Featured Character (1) Featured Contributor (1)
Guest Storyteller (1) Mizahar Grader (1)
One Thousand Posts! (1) One Million Words! (1)

Previous

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests