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Drugs, all the drugs!

Once an isolated and dying township, an influx of academics, adventurers and thrill seekers have made Scalvoris Town their home. From scholars' tea shops to a new satellite campus for Viden Academy, this is an exciting place to visit or make your home!

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• PM To Join • Come All Ye Needy

Postby Freya DuCarinos » Sat Feb 10, 2018 3:31 am

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11th Trial of Cylus, Arc 718

Drugs.
That’s what she needed to get her hands on. Wendell had taken the Raven, and with it, the supply of drugs they’d been trafficking from Nashaki to Rynmere and Etzos. It was hard to believe strange folk like the Qi’ora could also whip up a great batch of Ambrosia, but there it was, a rather large block of it just waiting to be sold… or used.
Freya clenched her jaw as she looked in her sack of things, waiting at a table to be served. It would be so easy to run back to her room and throw it all away… Do it, her mind persuaded, just a pinch of sap.
Silently and reluctantly, she closed the satchel and tied it shut, keeping it at her feet as food was served before her by a middle aged woman that looked a bit out of it herself.
“Excuse me,” Freya called, causing the woman to pause with a quirk of her brow, “I’ve got a brother who enjoys getting into the shady side of life. You wouldn’t happen to have any places around here known to be like that, do you?”
“Shady? Aye.” The woman’s accent was thick. Stronger than Freya’s Ne’haerian stresses. “Roight ther’ a’the Four n’ Hand. Bring a blade ther’s I were yah.” Thanking the woman for her time with some gold, Freya dove into her food while keeping a loot out around her. Subtle glances, nothing too suspicious. She didn’t want to draw attention by being overly paranoid but she couldn’t pretend she was safe here. Safety was an illusion, of course.
After a fulfilling meal, Freya gathered her things and headed for the door. The block alone could get her money, but who would buy something the didn’t know of? Her customers would be limited, therefore, she decided a stakeout was the best course of action.
It took some time to find it, but Freya finally stumbled upon The Four In Hand. It seemed lively and decorated from the from as loud voices and music greeted her even before she reached the road it was on. Casually, she made her way around the back and found several doors there that led out from inside. Parking it against the side, she kept an eye out for whomever was to walk up or out. Rookie deals did that and the biqaj would have no problem robbing the idiot of his goods.
Breaks passed until Freya could no longer feel the tips of her fingers and toes. Fearing potential frostbite, she started to gather her things up and leave out to the front when a rather scrawny woman collided hard with her shoulder.
Caught off guard, the drug trafficker fell against the side of the building, breath caught and shock keeping her eyes glued to the strangers. “What the sarding shit?” Freya cursed, the hood of her cloak falling off.
“I knew it.” The woman rattled. “Pathetic. Waiting for a dealer, are yah?”
“What dealer?”
“Save it, DuCarinos.”
Freya’s expression darkened. “Oh..?”
The woman watched Freya tug her hood back on and stand, red eyes piercing through the veil of shadow the environment provided. “So then you know of me?”
“Uh huh. And what’s Wilde’s wench doing this far north?”
Another pause… Then, expression changing, Freya relaxed. “Well, you know. Men. They grow bored with the same flesh and one thing leads to another...”
“What? Suck his cock to stay alive?”
She bit her tongue. “What else was there to do?” It was at this point, Freya noticed the blade in the woman’s hands. “You’ve come to finish me off then?”
Silenced grew until the woman coughed, soon spitting on the ground next to Freya. “Foul-borns suck at begging. I’ve come to take you to my Lord.”
“Lord? Are you one of his dealers?”
“Shut up and come with me.”
The spring loaded dagger against her forearm popped open and she swung, the blade quickly being met by her opponent’s. The sound of blades meeting rang sharply in the air, vibrating against the bone of her arm as Freya stepped back. She was freezing.
“You should know what’s on my head. Leave me be or die.”
The stranger laughed, “I’m shakin’ in me boots!” She retorted. “Come now, DuCarinos. If you’re this difficult, I can see why he left you!”
“Oh, you’re such a soothsayer. At least I was a wench, hag.” She gripped, moving back to swing and swing again, dodging punches and avoiding body slams until Freya saw an opening and swung the hilt of her dagger into the woman’s skull. She dropped instantly, leaving a breathless, shivering biqaj standing alone in the dark.
“Sarding bastard…” Stumbling slightly, the trafficker moved to the body, knelt down, and flipped her over only to hand hands reach out to choke her. How was this woman not unconscious?!
“Die already!” Freya grunted, smacking the woman’s hands away with her elbows before wrapping her own around the pasty, thin neck of the hag. She thrashed beneath her, face slowly turning as she struggled for something. Flashbacks of Qyona strangling her sprang to the forefront of her mind and she quickly released her hold on the woman. Thankfully, it was just enough time to cause her attacker to pass out. She was lucky…
She made quick work of sifting through her backs and cloak, looking for any hidden compartments or lumps in her clothes. There was one spot around her waist that stuck out and hastily, Freya cut the fabric to find bag fulls of a drug she came to recognize as Purple Perl. Just what she needed!
Now that she had what she needed, Freya ditched the unconscious body of the woman and headed inside to warm up. She’d rent a room for the customers she was soon to have, changed into some relaxing (and somewhat revealing) clothes, then headed downstair to more secluded parts for drinks, cards, and clients.
Several breaks passed as she found herself surrounded at a table in the back, having sold a bit of product to the folks in the chairs around her. Legs kicked up on the back of one of the chairs, a hand of cards were clenched between her fingers just before she snapped them down onto the wood. “Triple tens. Beat that.”
The folks who weren’t high groaned, one even got up and left the table. The others just chatted away and seemed oddly hyper focused. The Ambrosia was working...
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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Max » Sat Feb 10, 2018 5:13 am

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The trip to Scalvoris Town with Merces was more a trip of necessity than of leisure. A single exchange between strangers in a tavern had evolved into a relationship that resembled something like wildfire, the way it grew and consumed everything and everyone in its path. Their residency in Almund had left the place with plenty of fresh scars to boast. The attention they were beginning to draw was reason enough to temporarily vacate their homes under the guise of exploring Scalvoris further. Mercenary work made them versatile. It seemed that no matter where one went in Idalos, there was always someone willing to pay to keep their own hands clean. Escaping the heat, however, didn't mean they would manage to successfully outrun their vices, too.

Just like every village had an idiot, every town was sure to have its haven for debauchery. Maxine didn't have to search long. The Four in Hand seemed to pull her in like gravity, coaxing her through its doors with promises of gambling fiends worth bankrupting and full bottles of rum fixing to be emptied. The mischievous intent of the business's occupants was so palpable it was nearly as intoxicating as the booze. The shiftiness was just enough to remind her of her familiar haunts in Almund, and thus she was perhaps more comfortable here than she was anywhere else in Scalvoris Town. With her powerful paramour at her side, Max had very little to fear. Not that she'd dare allow him to fight her battles for her.

This time she'd urged Merces to enter the Four in Hand first without her. It wasn't that she was upset with him or had come to loathe his presence by any means. Rather, it had come to her attention that some establishments frowned upon the practice of bringing in outside alcohol. Obviously she wasn't going to pour out what rum remained in her bottle. That was the only true sort of blasphemy she believed in. Instead she elected to stand outside, back leaned against a supporting post while she set to finishing it. Other than the cold, it wasn't so bad. People watching had quickly become one of her favorite hobbies, and this time, her appreciation for its entertainment value had paid off indeed.

Classic.

Max's brow rose when she spotted a blatant shoulder knock between a pair of women. A smile crept upon her lips as she watched the exchange between the belligerent and the apparent drug-affiliate named DuCarinos, an amused whistle when the conflict escalated and blades met. She could've stepped in like some tiresome hero, smashed the bottle over someone's head, and overall brought an end to an exchange destined to conclude with bloodshed. The best time to have done so was perhaps when the blades were away and DuCarinos had her fingers wrapped around her grounded assailant's throat. Perhaps Max should've. Instead she watched with eyes alight with curiosity, even more so when DuCarinos retreated when she had the clear opportunity to terminate her attacker. At least she had the sense to steal some trophies off the unconscious woman for her trouble.

With furrowed brow, the Rusalka finished her drink and pushed her way into the Four in Hand to find a victim of her own. For a time she wandered about, getting a lay of the land and those within it. She certainly had her pick of the litter when it came to a wide variety of games, even beyond dice and cards. Max ended up at the bar buying herself a new bottle of rum to replace the last. Then, and only then, was she ready to sniff out the blood in the water. Her surveying gaze swept the room until they found themselves resting on an all-too familiar face: DuCarinos.

"Don't be too intimidated, friends," Max purred as she slipped into one of the nearly vacant seats at the woman's table with a devilish grin. "She may have a good poker face, but I just saw her last performance outside." Now her eyes were fixed on the Biqaj woman directly. "No follow through."



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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Enrick » Sat Feb 10, 2018 6:34 am

Where else in town did anybody who was like Enrick determine the best place to hang around? The Four In Hand obviously. Little joints like this weren't always his scene, but staying here to remain warm for the remaining winter served it's purpose. Since his sloop was literally a frozen ice cube right now, he had little else he could do other than bide his time for Ashan once more. When warm waters would return to melt the ice, Enrick could then return to his home like he wanted to. Though it wasn't unusual to spend extended times away from his little haven, Enrick did often feel out of touch with those he knew back there afterwards.

On this night of Cylus though he found himself even more interested in the crowds, became unlike the usual folk he saw gambling away here; one in particular seemed to have set up a bit of fun. Aphina. Though her peers at the table had been calling her "DuCarinos" at every possible moment, something which he presumed to be her clan name likely. Still rather than insert himself into the group he kept at bay, determined to sit back and watch her from afar. His eyes remained their silvery hues for the longest time as he did, and after he managed to consume a few drinks alone in that time; he gave in and decided it in his interest to investigate. They were smoking something. What he didn't know for sure but he believed it purely innocent, or at least he thought so when he came to approach the group gathered at the table.

"Evenin' boys, Aphina." He greeted with his silver eyes on her first then on the rolled drug being passed around. "Mind if Oi join?" He chimed with a chair dragged from another table, the stuff they were smoking came into his possession as he sat down among them. His eyebrows furrowed some as he took the rolled joint and brought it to his lips, a heavy drag taken off of it as he inhaled the puff of smoke within his mouth. With his little 'initiation' into the group out of the way, he brought a hand up to gesture for them to continue their game with an exhale to follow. "No need t' include me boys, Oi'm just here fer the good time is all."

"Yeah, the good time he says!" One of the boys snickered as he looked to another one of the card players, Enrick merely chuckled and sank back into his chair as he let the effects kick in. He felt his mind become more focused and detail oriented with the environment, an effect that was totally opposite to the few beers he'd already had. Sure he felt a pretty good buzz after those mugs, but generally a few drinks helped one relax not focus more. The roll came back around into his possession and somehow he thought little of it, another hit had been dragged off and this time it was a little more harder. With a deep inhale to follow he soon had the urge to cough hard a few times, and sure enough he had to gesture the barkeeper for another mug of beer on his tab.

When they continued their round and it seemed as though a few of the men were unable to determine her bluff, Enrick remained avidly quiet with brightly lit turquoise eyes on the whole group. Why was he so quiet? Well he couldn't help but notice... one of the card holders were left handed, liked to scratch his wrist a lot too. Then there was another who's beard wasn't actually a beard... but patches of a poorly grown beard. And... Seven asses! Was he high from that?! That wasn't no ordinary tobacco, by no means at all. His eyes wandered and he just absorbed all this information quietly, until another person came along to insult Freya just out of the blue. No follow through? What is it this woman saw Aphina doing outside? Enrick hadn't any clue as to what it was, but at this point he had already found himself glancing between the two of them.

Younger most definitely and quite an attractive one also, yet her demeanor implied more than just another pretty face. She had spunk about her and in her words, an sharp tongue one needed to be wary of otherwise they fall victim to it's edge. Aphina looked capable of holding her own but Enrick already found himself speaking on her behalf, his mug rested on the table as he looked to the other woman with a wry smile. "Or maybe she's just a lass with class." Was his remark as he covered the remainder of his rhetoric with yet another drink, while one or two of the other guys chuckled at the comment he made.
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Postby Merces » Sat Feb 10, 2018 5:14 pm

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The Four In Hand had a reputation for being a hand crafted home for gamblers, drunks, and brawlers alike. Those who elected to enter the vicinity were plunged into a world that seemed “normal” until they laid eyes on their surroundings. The company here consisted of several men and women littered and intertwined in crowds. While some groups elected to gamble among one another, other areas were filled with bottles of liquor and laughing crowds. The sound of joy, cheers and drunk bastards as they fell in puddles of their own booze echoed about the area. Max chose to join him for the trial, and their relationship had become far more complex than he intended upon. He recalls the night of terror in the tavern where they first encountered one another. She swiped a drink from a man without bringing her presence to his attention. Regardless of their relationship status; Merces knew very well that at any given moment she would plunge a blade through his heart. However, that did not stop his eyes from wandering until he found someone of interest. After he bore witness to a drug-dealing woman who failed to secure a kill and entered there he saw here again. At a table accompanied by Max as she participated in the dance of gambling.

Merces joined Max at the table although he did not elect to sit beside her, but rather chose the seat closest to DuCarinos. Black clad in his typical leather attire which consisted of a pair of dark trousers, lengthy boots a single left handed glove, and his large extravagant cloak of feathers he came to rest beside her. The unusual iridescent coloration of his irises as they danced with flame of cerulean hue had been the first of his many odd features. The second had been his incredibly damp hair, yet another idiosyncrasy in combination with his increased bodily temperature. Hardly anyone seemed to notice the obvious, high level of magic that caressed his very being. The “Guardian” even accompanied him wherever he traveled and seemed to never leave his side. A small sphere of flame no larger than a fingertip circled his frame multiple times. One that paid enough attention closely would have leisurely tracked its presence.

The Sorcerer swung his left ankle over his right knee, and sat obviously glancing at DuCarnios. She had been quite an attractive one, and her beauty was difficult to ignore. She had an allure; not because she was beautiful, but because he witnessed her fail to slay another person a moment ago. Why did people value and cherish the lives of others? Why did people need to have a sense of “morality”, and what truly was right as opposed to wrong? Evil may be described as “Bad” however what if all morals were based upon the opinions of those who observed the actions of others? What truly was “Good” other than generosity and selflessness? There was no good, no evil, but simply what existed, what happened and what did not happen.

The Sorcerer parted his lips and spoke aloud as he continued to obviously check out DuCarnios. Merces did not care about the presence of Max at the table either, and did not try to hide the fact that she was interesting.

“Maybe she simply could not do it.. People and their core values are held entirely too closely now-trials..” He concluded a brief statement as he observed everyone at the table. Off in the distance multiple hounds from “The Kennels” gathered and began to gossip in their corner of darkness.

“She's the one, over at the table?”

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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Freya DuCarinos » Sun Feb 11, 2018 8:35 am

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It was like a rotation— a very strange rotation of folks coming and going from the table Freya put herself at. She didn’t like the attention, nor the crowd that gathered soon after her arrival, but she wasn’t sure if that was mostly due to the Ambrosia or the chance at winning some serious nel from the table.
The first set who’d joined her were a couple of older men looking to woo her with drink offers. Politely declining such pesky things, Freya instead offered them a taste of the joint she’d just rolled. It wasn’t what tobacco usually looked like as there was a very thin piece of fabric jetting out from the tip of the roll and inside it, a thumbnail size smear of Ambrosia.
While one took the offer, the other gentlemen declined and moved away. Eager to sell the drug, Freya gladly lit the joint for her newfound customer and thus, began what was now a party. The smell of the drug was odd, but even that too was enough to entice and beckon curiosity into taking a hit.
Then after the first hit, their gold was all hers for the taking.
Now it seemed another woman had joined them at the table, her own exotic appearance reminding her of the women from Bayward: fierce, strong, independent. If it wasn’t made obvious enough by the newcomer’s comment that she was at least a small threat, it was made so by the glint in her gaze that had Freya’s pink eyes stuck to her’s. Who the sard was this?
Lips pursing ever so slightly, a small smile curled the edges of her lips. “That little show wasn’t meant for prying eyes.” Freya told, gathering the cards to begin shuffling once more. “It’s easy to take a life, to follow through with barbaric acts. But I felt sorry for the hag. I was sure she’d never been laid in her life and thought I’d at least give her that chance before I cut her navel to neck.”
Glancing down at the cards for a brief moment, she called to the table. “The buy in is ten gold pieces. Keep them in the center if you wish to play and keep your hands in your lap until all hands are revealed.” Then, swiftly, she shuffled the cards together with little finesse and started to deal up the hands to those who’d begun to throw gold onto the table, her own included in the pile. Once each player had two cards in hand, Freya then flipped the first two cards and presented them upon the table. “Ace of clubs and six of diamonds.” Pausing, “I’ll raise.” More gold clattered onto the wood as the next player folded, going around the table.
She noticed there were several more people here, even the familiar face of Enrick as he came to her defense about ‘follow through’. What did this woman know of what she could and could not ‘follow through’? What did anyone know? Memories of Wendell caring for her wound during the aftermath of killing Qyona slipped into her mind. Her chest tightening before dismissing the thought and focusing her attention back to the conversation at hand.
“All this talk of ‘follow through’ has my interest piqued. Tell me, do you ‘follow through’ with all of your heart’s desires?” Her accented voice questioned, smiling. “Or does your pride force you to embarrass yourself, even in the presence of a lover?”
Freya drank from her tankard of ale, watching as the joint was passed to Enrick, who promptly smoked it, then again. She would have cringed if she wasn’t so focus on embarrassing this wench that invaded the atmosphere between seller and buyer. The hits from the roll would have him hyper-focused and craving for more here shortly. He wouldn’t know what hit him until it was far too late.
“You do know what that is? A lover? Or has your pride buried your desires in excuses? Follow through? What do you know of follow through? Hm?” Freya’s foreign accent became thicker as she dropped her legs from the chair they rested on and leaned her elbows onto the table. “Make yourself an example then and kiss me.” She waited, the whole table having gone silent, looking between the two until the pirate laughed softly and brushed a hand back through her hair.
“All bark, no bite. Seems you’re just as harmless as I am.” Smiling, Freya watched as the blunt was passed to the woman who started this… challenge, the wafting smoke settling just under her nose, tempting her to try the drug.
Freya shifted when another body settled in right next to her, seemingly interested in her, though suspiciously in her eyes. She was paranoid of the guards, even more so of any assassins that might’ve caught her trail. As odd as the man was, something strange about his eyes caught her attention, though only for a moment until she returned her focus back to the game.
“My lesson from this is to be more discreet in the future.” She answered after the man spoke, “But what joy comes from killing those who will realize they owe you a debt upon realizing you spared their life? I find it more satisfying to watch.”
In truth, she didn’t… She was a killer or out to ruin anyone’s life. She didn’t kill for the fun or the sport of it. Freya was only trying to survive...
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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Max » Mon Feb 12, 2018 2:56 am

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Another gambler seated himself at the table, and between the way he fixed his gaze on this "Aphina" and how quick he was to defend her, it seemed the pair knew each other well enough. The revelation that DuCarinos had an ally present at the table didn't seem to shake Maxine one bit. Instead she was leisurely leaned back in her own chair, a single brow raised in mirth and a smirk painted upon her lips while she watched the dealer return with banter of her own. She lifted her bottle and poured herself some rum into the glass the bartender had provided her.

It seemed that Max's quip had gotten well beneath the dealer's skin. The defensiveness masked with taunting only confirmed her suspicions. There was more to the deadly exchange outside the Four in Hand than the dealer likely wanted anyone to discover. Maxine had nearly let the woman's sharp tongue go, writing it off as entertainment suited to rebuttal her own entrance. She'd even tossed in her ten gold to secure her spot while the dealer set to shuffling. When the first pair of cards were turned, the Rusalka matched DuCarinos' raise with one of her own. The small pile of gold coins grew.

She leaned forward to rest her forearms on the table, eyes watching the cards as she prepared to influence a favorable outcome for herself. When the joint being passed around the table reached her, Max didn't hesitate to seize it in her grasp if only to distract herself before she came undone. She puffed on the joint, eyeing it when she pulled it away from her with a satisfied plume of smoke rising slowly from between her parted lips. Soon enough its mysterious effects were felt. A new energy flooded her mind and the world around her seemed somehow...clearer. In a perfect world, she would've been enjoying the effects of the new drug after passing it onto the next consumer. She had every intention of doing just that...that is, of course, before Merces made a surprise appearance at the table.

Her paramour seemed to agree with her earlier sentiment, but his eyes were all over the card dealer he chose to seat himself beside. It was enough to make her blood boil. Had she not given him enough? When she'd finally secured a job that brought her life purpose, his actions forced her to choose between it and him. Any prestige she was on a path to cultivating for herself at The Kennel had been forfeit. She'd defended him, killed for him. Time and again she'd bled both body and soul for Merces. She was yet to see such sacrifice in return. Her mental restraints thinned quickly. The dealer's continued blatant disrespect was what really set her off. Maxine wasn't the sort of woman to test. That was about to be the second lesson DuCarinos learned that trial.

The Rusalka laughed darkly with a sinister gleam resting in once caramel eyes now turned nearly black. For a bit she only eyed the dealer with tongue in cheek. She tossed back the glass to down at least a shot's worth of rum and poured herself a second. The table had gone eerily silent with the palpable turn of her once light-hearted, cheeky mood. Max rose from her seat, looked to the glass in her hand, and then gestured directly toward DuCarinos with it from where she stood across the table. "How the fuck about we head outside so I can discreetly throw my drink in your bitch ass face?" Maxine threatened with a chilling evenness. With the other hand she gestured toward the worn, stained playing cards scattered about the table. "I'd do it here but you're not worth the cheap ass cards it'd ruin."

The pissed off Rusalka began to circle around the table toward her mark, though something seemed to occur to her shortly after her last statement. She put the altercation on hold with a raised index finger while she downed the second shot. "Know what?" she breathed a tense laugh that certainly never met her abyss-like gaze. "Fuck the cards!" Maxine hurled the glass viciously at DuCarinos' head with enough power behind it to make her exact intentions clear. On the off-chance they weren't, they were about to be.

She was done talking. The trill the last word left her lips and the glass her fingertips, Max had rushed her target with an impressive belligerence. She had every intention of closing the distance quickly and all but hammering DuCarinos into the floor with a tackle. In the event she was successful, the pugnacious killer would commence the ground and pound while remaining wary of her victim's hidden blade.


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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Enrick » Tue Feb 13, 2018 7:02 am

People in general had come and gone as the games seemed to play and while Enrick more or less watched, he found that each and every poker face made nearly repeated each other. He could keenly notice the fact majority of those gathered would tap fingers when they looked at their served hands, indicating that they had a debatable arrangement of cards that they were dealt with in their turn. He could also notice the coy smirks and faint twitches in their eyebrows, as they tried to refrain from revealing what sort of hand they were arranged during the game.

The coloration of his turquoise eyes became glossy as he noticed not just the sassy girl that had join them, but also the unusual young man that sat near Aphina. Unusually fiery eyes found upon her he couldn't help but eye her up and down, and to an extent Enrick could greatly understood the motive as to why. He never really fed into the idea of observing her too much, yet when he did the turquoise brightened to an arrangement of colors. Was it possible for him to feel multiple emotions at once? With such high clarity in his mind and his highly fueled observation, Enrick found his eyes first on Aphina's eyes and then her lips next. Soft. Lush. Delicate. The kaleidoscope of colors in his iris ranged from silver to magenta, as well as green and yellow in dotted patterns.

Usually he never felt such odd combinations of emotions when he mingled among crowds, evidently however that wasn't the case when it came to smoking... whatever that good sarding shit was!! Finally it came around to his possession once more and with it between his fingers, he brought it's tip back between his lips with a much deeper inhale than the first two rounds. Seven asses that had to be the best shit he ever had! With the smoke still trapped in his lungs he parted with the joint, it's possession now in the new girl as he leaned back to admire the cloud he exhaled slowly. He couldn't help but grin as he watched it dissipate into the air, his eyes an arrangement of green and silver as the magenta and yellow spots seemed to dance about.

Enrick couldn't help but chuckle a little as Aphina seemed quite rhetorically capable of handling herself, the budding promise of a potential dare between to ladies elevated his eyebrows. Did she just dare the new girl to kiss her?? Holy. Bogs. Enrick had never really... no. Never in his life had he ever predicted having a front row seat, in regards to watching two women kiss each other solely out of a dare. Yet when his unsettled eyes fell to the other girl, it quickly became apparent that she wasn't entirely all into the act. Quite the opposite actually since her partner had been blatantly admiring Aphina instead, this one developed a temperamental attitude that would only erupt into violence if left unchecked.

Surely enough it would...

The darker haired girl rose with the insult of dumping her drink all over Aphina, the glass already hurled as she rose to try and assail the dealer before them. Upon instinct Enrick had already risen from his chair after her, his arms already shot out to grab her by the wrists before she continued. "Oy! Oy! No need fer d'at ruckus 'ere now!!" The fisherman called out with his irises fully cloaked with red and silver. "Just what're ya playin' at? Ain't nothin' t' be mad 'bout wit' her, quite honestly if ya got a beef ya need sortin' it's with yer lover boy over yonder." He pointed out with a nod to the guy that sat next to Aphina, it became quite clear that this was nothing more than sheer jealousy over the fact she wasn't being fawned over. Whether or not he could successfully keep her restraint though proved to be the question, even when he proved larger than the girl she still had quite the spunk to fight back.

Regardless of what she would do in reaction to his intervention, Enrick wouldn't let her just freely assail a plausible friend without repercussion.
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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Merces » Tue Feb 13, 2018 11:12 pm

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The Sorcerer remained silent; his flaming gaze remained set upon the drug dealer. Every individual in the room seemed to smoke away at the joint being passed around. Mercy however did not indulge in the mundane activity of altering his consciousness. Focus became a requirement; especially in an environment filled with drug addicts, alcoholics and thieves. Even Max decided to make the unwise choice and smoke alongside the others. With each passing bit those who made the choice to indulge in the drug inhalation and appeared intoxicated. Humans made more mistakes than they should have, and often made the same mistake continuously. Nothing but death awaited the foolish, and they deserved to burn alive. The scent of charred flesh, had always been idiosyncratic, pungent and beautiful all at the same time.

Perhaps he should set ablaze the woman he admired with such passion ablaze. However, the moment she spoke in response to Max all of his admiration for her ceased. She dared Max to kiss her, and The Sorcerer knew the result would be violence. The sudden exchange of words, followed by the drink had been a sign of imminent danger. Either Max would slay Freya, or Merces would burn her alive where she stood in attempt to lay lips upon his woman. The dancing flame alight within his irises transitioned from cerulean to a stark white color. The Sorcerer noticed how hot he became in an instant, and the final straw had been when Enrick mentioned that the qualm of the women should his.

As the underlying anger beneath the surface of Merces skin intensified his bodily temperature spiked sharply. The Sorcerer needed to do something before he lost control of himself, and inevitably burned the entirety of the area to the ground. Rather than elect to instantly incinerate all of the individuals at the table; Merces spoke in a tone so calm that even Max might find it unusual.

“Shut... The Fuck.. Up. All of you, or I'm going to convert you into ash so small, so insignificant that not a single person will recall you by name, as you will cease to exist. Either calm down, stop the ruckus, or I will kill you all and everyone else in here too.”

The Sorcerer spoke with a smile in a hushed tone as not to alert the remainder of the people within the vicinity. The sound of his voice did not carry, nor leave the table. When he became silent, he was serious, and when he boasted loudly he more often than not was sarcastic. If they did not heed his warning; The Sorcerer would act without hesitation.



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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Freya DuCarinos » Wed Feb 14, 2018 7:28 am

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Freya had been watching the joint pass around, having not paid attention to the details that others were taking into account. She was focused on her job, allowing others a caress of intense high before taking the joint back and snuffing it out on the table. There were eight at the table, including the folks that had just recently sat down and while she didn’t mind the banter at play, Freya had only one thing on her mind and that was money.
She knew that the act of snuffing out the one thing that was causing them all to feel how they felt, especially in front of them, would cause them to soon crave for more. It only took a bit for the experienced to ask for more, as they were already addicted to the stuff.
Thus, as her eyes were trained on the cards, she didn’t noticed the alcohol being tossed on her until its cold, strong stench collided with her face and chest and she popped up from her chair on instinct. The woman she’d retorted to now stood ready to fight, setting alarms off in Freya’s head as her anger rose and red eyes turned to the barkeeper on the other side of the tavern. He seemed distracted enough with the crowd he had around him, which caused her eyes to inspect the crowd and find there, a group of people staring back at her.
Her heart jumped.
“What the sarding fuck..!” Freya hissed as a glass streaked past her, hitting the wall right next to the man who’d sat down next to her as she ducked to avoid it. “Are you nuts?!”
Everyone, so intensely high off the Ambrosia, stood up when the woman started to approach her, one of whom, Enrick, prevented. Freya didn’t move from where she stood, but her heart hammered in her chest now and her fists shook from both adrenaline and wrath as the shattering of the broken glass drew the attention of the patrons around them, including the barkeeper.
Shit, shit, shit, she thought.
That was until something to her right, a kind of heat, caught her attention and she turned to find its source was the man beside her. His flesh, so heated that steam was very subtly coming off his skin. Freya couldn’t believe such a sight and yet, there it was, stealing her attention away. Was he an aukari?
Then, once he spoke, her suspicions were confirmed, at least in her mind, and she inched away from him, as did the rest of the group, before everyone took their seats. Aukaris were dangerous and explosively volatile. This man seemed to embody the entire fear of why people disliked their kind.
Clenching her jaw, the woman pushed a hand back through her now wet, rum ridden hair, watching with disdain as the barkeep made his way through the crowd to the table where they were seated. He noticed the broken glass and mark on the wall first before the woman in front of him and the people around her. “Is there a problem here?”
“No problem, love.” Freya spoke, wiping alcohol from her collarbone and the swell of her bosom, attempting to distract the man. His eyes moved but his features didn’t change much. Was he not satisfied with her answer and display? Freya sighed.
“Well, truth be told, your glass shattered in my hand while I was taking a shot on a dare.” She expressed. “You and I are both lucky I didn’t cut my hand open.”
“What of the mark?” He pointed, causing her to look back, then swing deep red eyes towards the threatening Aukari. She turned back, “The glass. It nicked the wall when it shattered in my hand.”
He frowned, seemingly unconvinced, “Right, and I guess you just dumped your alcohol all on your head too?”
It was then that Freya stood, squeezing out of the corner she was in to come up next to the barkeeper, leading them both away to safety. They spoke for a couple of bits before he brushed her off and they departed ways— her returning to the table while he sent a barmaid over to clean up the mess.
Freya frowned, her eyes a mix of gold and red as they passed between the woman across from her and the man beside her. What was this, a lover’s quarrel? She wanted no part in it.
“I mean no disrespect,” She spoke to the other woman. “I have no quarrel with any of you as I’m here only to provide a source of entertainment,” Freya gestured to the cards, “And fun.” Her eyes moved around the circle. “So let’s get on with it then..?”
Organizing the cards back into place, she discarded Max’s hand and flipped the next card over— a three of hearts. Freya threw a gold piece into the pile without even looking at her cards before excusing herself from the table.
Looking back to make sure she wasn’t followed by any of them, Freya approached the group staring at her from across the way, her hidden dagger still locked against her forearm. “Can I help you gentlemen?” As the barmaid who’d cleaned up the broken glass passed her, Freya stopped her to whisper something in her ear. She nodded, then beelined it for the bar to get a round of shots for the folks at her table. They’d be craving more drugs soon…
“A friend of ours said we’d find you here.” One of the taller fellows told, there were three of them.
“A friend?”
“Mm,” He leaned in closer, “We’re looking to trade.”
“Oh…” Freya was preparing to stab the man and make a run for it all, that was, until he’d spoken. “Right.”
Looking back at the table to assure, once more, no one was watching her, she gestured for the men to follow her. “Not here… and only one of you.”
This had been the whole reason she’d purchased a room for the night, to buy and sell the drugs she had, and boy, did she sell them. By the time the so called ‘Hound’ had left her room, Freya sold him fifteen berries and nearly the entire block of Ambrosia, returning to her pocket a mess of change that she hid somewhere in the cracks and crevasses of her room. Once she was finished, she took with her the remaining drugs and headed back downstairs.
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Come All Ye Needy

Postby Max » Wed Feb 14, 2018 12:25 pm

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Maxine was out for blood. Her eyes would've been a shade of red as equal as her target's had she been born a full Biqaj. Her peripheral view was almost non-existent she was so focused on the woman, like a predator upon its prey. She hardly noticed another card player had rose to prevent her approach until his hands seized both her wrists.

The mixed blood turned to blink incredulously at him as though he was the one that must've been out of his mind. Pinning the blame on Merces, while perhaps a valid element to the cause of her fury, did little to convince her she shouldn't send a shin between his legs or drive her forehead into the bridge of his nose. At least the latter would keep him from sticking it into her business again any time soon.

The Rusalka was about to punish Aphina's ally and return to her warpath when the defier's voice rose over the turmoil. It was enough to send a cold chill down her spine. Never had she heard Merces speak a threat with such...composure. If anyone else had the audacity to have made such a threat, it would almost be an absolute guarantee the Mixed Blood would defy their command if only out of spite. This, however, was Merces. She'd seen what he could do with her own two eyes. He pulled no punches. His words had been no empty ultimatum but a promise.

Maxine shoved her captor's hands away with an icy expression. As the rest of the table seemed to back away and hurriedly find their seats, Max remained standing until she was the last to follow. Her dagger-like gaze on DuCarinos was broken only when the barkeep arrived to question broken glass.

Here we go. Little fucking snitch.

She was practically waiting for the dealer to spill the truth and punish her by sending the Four in Hand staff after her. In Max's current state, the next that tried to place a hand on her was going to suffer brutal consequences. The Mixed Blood was already making a plan to wait for the dealer outside should they succeed in tossing her out. The visuals of what she'd do then were somehow more creative and crystal clear in her mind, an anomaly that was likely due to whatever kickass drug she'd indulged in bits ago. Those thoughts dissipated the moment DuCarinos spoke her answer.

Maxine's brow shot up in obvious surprise. She settled back into her seat with arms crossed and eyes narrowed, taken aback by the turn of events. She expected the woman to privately confess everything to the barkeep when she'd led him away from the table. By the way he disappeared from her presence without any expression that alarmed the Rusalka, it seemed that DuCarinos never did. When the dealer returned to the table to continue the game, Max seemed to have visibly calmed. Perhaps it was Merces-induced fear that led the woman to apologize and keep her mouth shut about the true events that had unfolded. In any case, her actions had suggested she wasn't a coward or a sell-out. That was something Max could genuinely respect.

When DuCarinos had vanished from the table once again, she found her eyes inexplicably drawn to the put-out joint. She could practically still smell the substance wafting up from where it had been snuffed on the table. She was no stranger to drugs by any means, but this was a novelty she enjoyed. She didn't even know its name. Likely that had been the catch of this entire episode. Only the dealer could provide.

Max settled for the shot set before on her on the table. "If you're not gonna smoke, at least have a drink," she suggested to Merces before tossing the alcohol back. "You're making people nervous." A small smirk crept on her lips at the notion of that reality. She liked the way he kept her on her toes as much as he did everyone else in any given room. She set the glass down gently upon the table before drawing her attention to the man that had stood up for DuCarinos bits before. "So, hero," Maxine began with a neutral expression. "Got a name?"


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